Family Photo
by littlejohnny.lj
Summary: Someone has risked their life to keep Dean safe and as the carefully woven lie of protection disintegrates, Dean finds himself in more danger than he had ever had to face. But when he discovers the truth, it will only make him stronger.
1. The Daily Prophet

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, sadly (otherwise I wou****ld be a billionaire by now, sigh). J.K. Rowling owns all the characters and parts of the plot.**

**Chapter 1 – The Daily Prophet**

_- Crack! - _

Footsteps were running up the stairs, a moment later, the door burst open.

"What!? – Oh Dean, how many times have I told you not to-"

"I know, I know," replied Dean, putting up a hand to stop his mother, "not while they're sleeping."

"You best get some sleep too, it's getting late," said his mother, walking towards the door and closing it behind her. Dean could hear her sigh and hurry to the room next door, to check whether his sisters were still asleep.

The bed creaked and sank as Dean sat down, running his hand through his hair, he turned his head towards his desk where lay a dozen or so newspapers and a few magazines. A waving Scrimgeour greeted him again and again from the glossy cover of the August edition of _The_ _Quibbler, _underneath the photo were the words, "SCRIMGEOUR DEAD, MINISTRY HAS FALLEN".

He remembered feeling a sudden surge of dread when he first read those lines, he suspected who was behind it, but he had read the article anyway, and now, the feeling of dread would rise from the pit of his stomach almost constantly. Dumbledore was dead, and so was the Minister of Magic, _The Quibbler_ had pointed straight out that this was the work of Death Eaters, and Dean knew it was true. After all, this was what Harry had been preparing them for, this was why he had joined Dumbledore's Army. Yet everything now felt infuriatingly surreal, no matter how long Dean thought about it, he could not get his head around it, could not accept it knowing that it was real. If so, then everyone was probably in more danger than they dared to believe. With the ministry down and taken over by death eaters, it wouldn't be long until they started hunting down muggle-borns, as _The Quibbler_ was quick to point out, in order to _"purify the population"._

Since then he had been practising apparating around the house, in case he needed to make a quick getaway soon, but Dean couldn't help feeling slightly foolish at his over-cautiousness, yet he sometimes questioned whether he was being cautious enough at all. His mother was becoming quite disillusioned by the sudden cracks, and had told him to stop when his siblings were sleeping, not to mention his stepfather would twitch every time he did it, but he was kind to Dean and did nothing to discourage it.

Initially he had thought Hogwarts would still be safe, Professor McGonagall was deputy headmistress before, so she would probably become headmistress, now that Dumbledore was gone. However, after the collapse of the Ministry, Dean wasn't so sure anymore.

As if confirming Dean's doubts by way of tantalisation, _The Daily Prophet _for the past few days had been running articles outlining changes to Hogwarts as of the coming school year.

Rolling over onto his bed, Dean fished out today's _Prophet_ that he hadn't read yet from underneath his bed. After being somewhat disgusted by the frontpage coverage of Rita Skeeter and the release of her new book, _The Life and Lies of Dumbledore_, Dean had angrily threw it somewhere in the general direction of his bed that morning, before heading down to breakfast.

'_But of course,'_ thought Dean sarcastically, _'Who cares about death eaters taking over the wizarding world? Surely Rita Skeeter could save us all with a few scratches from her quick-quotes quill?'_

Ignoring the frontpage, which showed a picture of Rita Skeeter hugging her book and giving a sly smile, looking nauseatingly flirtatious, Dean flicked through the pages of the newspaper until he found the news on Hogwarts.

He skim read the passages and felt his stomach twist. Hogwarts attendance was now mandatory for all witches and wizards, and each student would be given blood status. Dean felt his heart beat faster as he digested what this meant, they were obviously going to use this as a method of picking out muggle-borns and then…

'_Kill them? Send them to Azkaban? Or merely just send them away?'_ mused Dean, his heart beating faster and faster.

All of the sudden he could hear footsteps running up the stairs again, it was probably his mum checking to see if his light was still on. Dean quickly switched off his lamp and pulled the covers over his body, pretending to be asleep while his hand still clutched the _Prophet._

In the dark, he could hear his mum open the door to check on him then slowly backing out and closing the door behind her. Dean hadn't been sleeping well for the past few weeks and his mum, much to his annoyance, had noticed and made him drink warm milk every night, which did not help and was rather disgusting.

As his bedside clock ticked the minutes away, Dean lay in the darkness and couldn't stop thinking. _Surely, Professor McGonagall wouldn't let this happen?_ But deep down Dean knew the answer, she wouldn't let this happen, the answer was she had to. The drastic change in Hogwarts policy probably meant that it had been taken over by Death Eaters.

**A/N: Sorry, this was more of a necessary opening chapter to set the story going, but things will get more interesting soon, I promise!**


	2. Owlpost

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, sadly (otherwise I wou****ld be a billionaire by now, sigh). J.K. Rowling owns all the characters and parts of the plot.**

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews and I've changed my mind and added the first chapter to the summary, this is because the drop down menu numbers the chapters and I don't want my first chapter to be numbered the second one, if you know what I mean. (yes, I know it's a trivial reason…)**

**Chapter 2**** – Owlpost**

Something hard and covered in fur was continuously hitting him on his left cheek, Dean conjured up an image of his sister hitting him with her teddy in an effort to wake him up and thought it was probably it. But when he finally opened his eyes, it took him some time to realise that it was actually an angry barn owl kicking him in the face; today's _Prophet_ was curled up next to his pillow.

"Oh alright," grumbled Dean, as he got out of bed and yesterday's _Prophet_ fell onto the floor; Rita Skeeter smiled mischievously up at him. Dean shuddered, hoping she had had the decency to leave her picture while he had slept.

He went to his desk drawer and took out a purple drawstring bag, in it were numerous galleons and several sickles and knuts. The owl hopped onto his desk and stuck out its leg, where a small pouch had been attached. Dean withdrew 5 knuts and placed them in the pouch, the owl gave him one last glare before it flew out of the window.

Cold air entered through the window and Dean quickly shut it, he had left his window open all during the holidays for the owl deliveries and his room could now compete with Artic temperatures.

Walking back over to his bed, he couldn't help feeling slightly happy when he stomped on Rita Skeeter's photo, but depression settled over him again as sat on the bed.

He had spent all night assessing his situation and had somehow drifted off to sleep in the middle of it, and now he reconsidered again.

He had no idea whether or not he was muggle-born or half-blood, he had asked his mother once and she had no clue either, and Dean couldn't help feeling that she was not particularly keen to elaborate on his dad's life.

Dean thought hard. He could just go to Hogwarts regardless of the whole blood-status requirements, but he could well be walking to his death. He could find evidence to prove that his dad was a wizard, but the prospect of finding a random wand of his dad's in this house seemed slim, if there was anything in this house relating to his dad, he would've taken notice of it by now. He could fabricate evidence, though he'd never be as good as Rita Skeeter, he thought, peeping at the newspaper on the floor.

On the other hand, he could forget about Hogwarts, which made his stomach lurch and his head hurt, but that would mean he'd have to leave this house and go into hiding, his family knew nothing about what was happening right now, and he didn't want to worry them or drag them into any trouble. If it became true that the ministry was going to interrogate muggle-borns, he couldn't stay in his house and wait for them to turn up.

'_So…fabricate evidence or run away?'_

The question kept coming up in his mind as if someone had set it so that it played on a loop purposely to annoy him.

With a sigh of frustration, Dean unfurled the _Prohpet_ to focus his mind on other thingsand the headline immediately caught his attention, "WANTED FOR QUESTIONING ABOUT THE DEATH OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE," underneath was a picture of his friend and fellow Gryffindor, Harry. Dean couldn't be bothered reading it, Harry was the last person to kill Dumbledore and no matter what the _Prophet _said, it would never change his mind. As he turned the page, Dean had the unsettling, but at the same time strangely comforting feeling that he wouldn't be the only one leaving Hogwarts this year.

On the next page the headline immediately leapt up at him, "MUGGLE-BORN REGISTER". It felt like an ice-cold hand had just reached into Dean and began squeezing his heart, he felt like he was suffocating and room temperature had just dropped several degrees. His worst fears had been confirmed.

He began reading the article in numb fervour.

"_The Ministry is determined to root out such usurpers of magical power, and to this end has issued an invitation to every so-called Muggle-born to present themselves for interview by the newly appointed Muggle-born Registration Commission."_

Dean finished reading the last sentence of the article, his numb fervour had now turned into alarm and panic, _'But this means…'_

He hurried to open his window, but as he stood up, an owl had already swooped past and was flying towards the window in the lounge room, Dean quickly hurried onto the landing, halfway down the stairs he heard his mother calling –

"Dean, there's an owl for you!"

The last step seemed like it would never come, when he finally approached the lounge room, his mother was standing beside the window she had just opened. An owl flew in and dropped a letter into his hands, on the back of the thick parchment was the official seal of the Ministry, he quickly hid this from his mother's view, but his heart was beating rapidly.

"Just a letter from Seamus," he said casually, in the direction of his mum. But as he was about to leave the room, another owl swooped in and dropped a scrap of parchment which fluttered leisurely in the air until he grabbed it. He recognised the friendly scrawl instantly –

"_Ignore it__, will talk to you later._

_- Seamus_

_P.S. I don't suppose you still have your galleon?"_

"Is something wrong?" asked Dean's mother, frowning, as she approached Dean, "Why are there so many owls?"

"Er…this one's from Neville, he's…uh…just wondering if we wanted to go get our N.E.W.T. books together," finished Dean hastily, stuffing the slip into his trouser pocket. However, his mother was not looking at him anymore, as her attention was caught by a third owl, which was hovering just outside the window, staring at Dean intently.

Dean blinked, _'Another letter?'_ He turned towards the window again, but the owl had vanished, and his mum was closing the window, mumbling something like "…don't want to get the chill in…been such a cold Summer."

But Dean wasn't paying attention, he was sure the owl had something to tell him by the way it had looked at him. An anxious curiosity rose in him.

Slowly, Dean made his way back to his room, his hand still clutching the letter from the ministry. When he entered his room his heart nearly stopped beating, a pair of golden eyes were staring at him.

The owl was looking at Dean as if to say, "Well, aren't you going to let me in?"

Dean quickly strode to the window and opened it, the owl fluttered in and rested on his shoulder, Dean was slightly disappointed, there was no letter attached to it.

"Well…er…so…" began Dean, feeling a bit awkward and wondering how he was going to talk to the owl when it was perched on his shoulder. But, the owl, as if reading his very thoughts, flew onto his desk and stood there, staring at him with unblinking, golden eyes.

Dean shut the door and walked over to his desk and took a seat, he placed the ministry letter and Seamus' message on the table next to the owl, then he looked the owl in the face.

For a moment it looked like the two were having a starring competition, if so, then the owl was definitely winning, for Dean had began squinting. But Dean was merely surveying the owl. It was a long-eared owl, the colour of tea with random black stripes down its chest and wings.

"Who sent you here?" asked Dean, after he had obviously lost the starring competition.

The owl gave no comment.

"Talkative little thing, aren't ya?" said Dean, but his mind was elsewhere, _'Who had sent this owl? Did someone want to spy on him…with an owl?"_

Maybe the owl was a stray and it was hungry.

Cautiously, Dean opened his second drawer and pulled a half-devoured packet of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and poured a few beans out onto the desk. He then turned his attention to the ministry invitation. Fingering the envelope as if it were some delicate object, Dean gingerly peeled the seal and took a piece of thick parchment out, written neatly onto it with a sharp quill were the words:

"_Dear Mr Thomas,_

_The Ministry of Magic of Magic is undertaking a new survey of Muggle-borns to better understand how they came to possess magical potential._

_We have received intelligence that you are one of the so called "muggle-borns," hence we keenly invite you to present yourself for interview to the newly-appointed Muggle-born Registration Commission to assist with our research._

_Please present yourself prior to the 22__nd__ of August, anyone who fails to do so will be accompanied by Ministry officials to their interview._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Dolores Umbridge_

_Senior undersecretary to the Minister_

_Head of the Muggle-born Registration Commission_

_Ministry of Magic"_

'_Not to mention an ugly toad who can't teach…'_ thought Dean nastily. The owl suddenly nudged Dean's arm with its head, "What?" Dean turned his head, all the beans had disappeared, "Oh, right." Dean poured more beans onto his desk, "Geez, first you talk non-stop, now you decide to exhaust my junk food supply!" He smiled to the owl who did not look at all perturbed by the accusations.

By the time Dean had placed the packet of beans back into his drawer, the owl was working its mouth happily, though not on the beans.

"Oi! What the…Oi! Stop ripping that!" cried Dean, but it was too late, the owl had already shredded the invitation into several strips of parchment.

"There are better things to eat than paper, ok?" Dean gathered the pieces and threw them into his bin, the owl had already regained its previous state of indifference and was eating what looked like a cookie flavoured bean.

Dean ignored the owl and took the note from Seamus out of his pocket, he went over to his trunk, which he had not yet finished unpacking, and rummaged through his various books, quills and parchments before he found the galleon Hermione had bewitched. Stuffing it into his pocket, he vowed to keep it near him from now on, so he would know exactly when someone tried to communicate to him.


	3. The Warm Meeting

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, sadly (otherwise I would be a billionaire by now, sigh). J.K. Rowling owns all the characters (except maybe 3?) and parts of the plot.**

**Chapter 3**** – The Warm Meeting**

It was a week and a half before the galleon emitted its familiar warmth and the numbers changed to show the date on which Dean would visit Seamus at his house.

During the period of time, Dean had heeded Seamus' advice and decided to ignore the invitation. However, he couldn't stop being on the lookout for anything in the house which might relate to his father, he flicked through numerous photo albums, birth certificates, other documentation, willing the name "Christopher Thomas" to show up, but he never saw his father's name or photo.

He had also unpacked the last contents of his trunk and began packing things into a satchel that he thought he might need if he wasn't returning to Hogwarts. In went his wizard money, a quill, some parchment and a few other items. Finally, Dean packed some bottled instant darkness powder that he had bought last year from the Weasley twins.

After unpacking his trunk, he then filled it with his Hogwarts paraphernalia and some clothes, _'Who knows? Maybe a miracle will happen and I'll be able to go to Hogwarts like nothing had changed.'_ But the chance of that happening was slim, and besides, he didn't have his N.E.W.T. textbooks.

Upon completing this monotonous task, Dean began emptying his room of newspapers as well as the monthly editions of _The Quibbler_. He also resumed his daily apparation exercises and practiced a few spells on his pillow.

During these days the owl would often visit him, every time it flew off, Dean thought it was gone for good, but every time it would come back again. It had ignored every question Dean had asked concerning who had sent it, not that it could speak anyway, and Dean's junk food supply was diminishing rapidly.

One night Dean was eating dinner while listening to the weather forecast, "…and there will be more fog to come in this un-Summer-like Summer…" babbled the weather man. He heard his stepfather sigh, "All this fog, its becoming a nuisance on the roads." A conversation commenced between his parents about having to wake up earlier because the fog slowed traffic down. Dean wasn't listening and his siblings were whispering between themselves. Suddenly realisation dawned onto Dean, _'The dementors! They must be breeding fast for all this fog…which means they'll be all over the place!'_ Not a comforting thought.

As soon as Dean got up from his chair, the galleon in his pocket began to grow warmer, he quickly placed his plate in the kitchen sink and ran up to his room, where he was met with the still gaze of the owl.

"Just scare the living daylights out of me, why don't you?" said Dean, recovering from his shock. The pupils of the owl began to dilate and it gave a low hoot as if to say, "Yes, that is my life's goal," in an amused tone.

Dean ignored this and pulled out his galleon, the owl flew onto his shoulder as if to have a better look. The numbers around the edge of the galleon changed, the first six digits revealed tomorrow's date, the following four showed a time, _'Eleven in the morning, I'd better tell mum.'_

The next morning Dean found himself wondering if he could apparate to Seamus' house without splinching himself, he squeezed his eyes tightly and with a loud crack (He could see his stepfather flinching) left his home and arrived with another crack in front of Seamus' house. Quick footsteps from the inside hurried towards the door and before he could knock the door was swung open.

"I thought I'd heard someone apparate, come in Dean dear, I think Seamus is expecting you up in his room."

"Thankyou Mrs Finnigan for allowing me to come, I hope I'm no inconvenience." Dean smiled.

"Of course not, why would you be?"

Dean ran upstairs, the last time he had seen Seamus felt like ages ago. He opened the door to Seamus' room without bothering knocking.

"Dean!"

"Seamus!"

They drew into a friendly hug, Dean noticed another figure standing in the room, he was a bit taller and his hair a bit longer since they last met, but otherwise, he'd recognise the round face anywhere.

"Nice to meet you too," said Neville.

"Neville! Nice to see you!" Dean patted his Hogwarts roommate.

Seamus quickly closed the door to his room, and joined the others as they sat down on the floor.

"You didn't tell your mum I was muggle-born by any chance?" asked Dean.

"After she believed _The Prophet_ about Harry? Nah, I decided not to take any chances."

"Hang on," Neville silenced them and suddenly took his wand out of his jean pocket, waved it above his head and said, "Muffliato".

He was met with two pairs of eyes starring at him.

"Is this the same Neville who lost his remembrall?" asked Seamus.

"Or the one who accidentally jinxed himself in DA last year?" added Dean.

Neville gave a nervous chuckle, "Oh yeah that jinx…I'll never try that again."

A sigh of relief, it was the same clumsy Neville after all.

"It's Gran, she does it all the time now when she's speaking with her friends, I just learnt it from her, you never know, I'd preferred if no one could hear us. Anyway back to business, Seamus and I have been thinking about how we can help."

"About what? No doubt, I'd probably _stolen_ my magic from some poor defenceless wizard," snapped Dean, thinking back to the article he had read earlier.

"It's ridiculous," agreed Seamus, "But I've been thinking, we could just tell the Ministry we're relatives, and I could teach you my family tree or something."

Dean felt a surge of gratitude for his friend.

"No, we can't do that," Neville said immediately, "Gran's friend works at the ministry, she said that all the muggle-borns who have presented themselves so far have disappeared without a trace. They don't even listen to you, basically if they've sent you an invitation, you're," – Neville pulled his finger across his throat.

"But, that's _stupid_, what if they're really half-bloods?" retorted Seamus desperately.

Dean and Neville looked at each other, they knew the answer to that one.

"It doesn't matter, long as their not _pure-blood_," – here Neville pulled a face – "then they'll just do whatever they do to them. Gran said they've started rounding up half-bloods they don't like in the ministry anyway, as well as blood traitors."

"Exactly," sighed Dean, "they won't listen to me, and I don't have any evidence anyway. If you help me, that'll just get your family into trouble."

"Which means –"

" – I'll have to leave Hogwarts," finished Dean.

Neville nodded. "They've set up death eaters all over the place I bet, and there's rumours Snape will become headmaster, walking into Hogwarts would just be like walking into the Ministry."

A depressing silence followed in which Seamus seemed to be thinking hard, Neville was frowning and Dean was looking at Neville in new light. It seemed like something had emerged from Neville and not really change, but added to his character, in any case, Dean knew there was something beneath him other than the clumsy and forgetful boy who lived with his dear old gran.

"One little problem though," said Dean, breaking the silence, "My parents don't know anything about this, and I'd like to keep it that way. They think I'm returning to Hogwarts, and my mum usually doesn't say goodbye till she's seen me cross the barrier at Kings Cross…and…uh…I have a feeling they're gonna send Ministry officials after me if I don't turn up by the 22nd."

"Why don't you live with me for the last few days?" asked Seamus, "The least I can do."

Dean smiled sadly and was about to say thank you when a thought occurred to him, "But your mum doesn't know I'm a muggle-born, I don't think it's a good idea if ministry officials find me here."

Seamus thought hard again.

"You could live with me?" Neville offered, "My Gran hates the Ministry and she'd love to help."

Seamus looked up, "Yeah, that's probably the best idea," though he sounded slightly sad about it.

Before Mrs Finnigan called them to lunch, the matter was settled. Dean knew his mum would agree since on September the 1st, everyone in his house started school and before 8am, it was already chaos. It would be one less worry for his parents if they didn't have to drive him to King's Cross.

**A/N: Sorry for the delay, exams are coming up and I'm getting prepared for some intense cramming! Anyway, thank you very much for all the reviews, hopefully, I can put up my next chapter soon, otherwise (and I'm extremely sorry) it might take a while probably after the exams.**


	4. Protective Enchantments

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, sadly (otherwise I would be a billionaire by now, sigh). J.K. Rowling owns all the characters (except maybe 3?) and parts of the plot.**

**Chapter 4**** – Protective Enchantments**

There was a certain gloomy atmosphere in Seamus' house that day. Though their conversations moved from Hogwarts to Death eaters to Harry then to more pleasant things like what they wanted to be when they grew up, then back to Harry in which all three swore their faithfulness in him, Dean couldn't help feeling a sense of foreboding. He couldn't shake off the thought that he would never see Seamus again, or his life was about to change dramatically in the next few days. What if he had to stay in hiding for the rest of his life?

That night back in his room, he toyed with the pocket sneakoscope that Seamus had given him. His mum had allowed him to spend the last of his holidays at Neville's, and he would leave on the 20th. Dean had finalised the contents of his trunk, just in case, and was looking at the owl, which had dropped in again and was finishing off a second packet of Berti Bott's Every Flavour Beans.

During the following days Dean came to assume that he was the owl's owner. On the day Dean had returned home from Seamus' the owl had had a fit of hooting, Dean, rather annoyed, snapped at him to stop hooting and ever since, the name "Hoot" stuck.

On the day of the 20th Dean woke up with a start, he had cancelled the owl order service yesterday, so there was no owl kicking him in the face this time. Hoot, however, had obviously come back from a night of hunting and scavenging, he was looking out the window, solemn as ever, and at his feet laid an old faded photo, and an even older scrap of newspaper.

"Thanks for the rubbish Hoot, you sure know how to repay me for all those beans," said Dean sarcastically, as he picked them up and prepared to throw them in the bin.

Hoot suddenly gave a soft hoot.

"What?" asked Dean groggily.

Immediately his attention was caught by the calamity taking place outside his window, a moment ago the street was empty. Now, however, a ministry official was jabbing his wand at a woman dressed in dark, rich velvet robes with the hood on.

Neville's gran.

Neville had told him that he would come on the day to pick him up, but he was nowhere to be seen and this ministry official, Dean guessed, was probably part of the Muggle-born Registration Commission, who was overly eager and had arrived two days early.

For Dean.

Dean immediately dragged his satchel from beneath his bed and rushed downstairs.

"Mum!"

Dean's mother was sitting calmly at the table, eating a bowl of cereal and reading the newspapers. She looked up and glanced straight through the window before turning her head to Dean.

She reacted as is she had seen nothing in the window, Dean looked again, Neville's gran had just stupefied the ministry official, wouldn't that at least make a muggle look twice? Dean's mother's blank expression gave him the impression that she had not seen anything at all.

"Its nice weather today isn't it?" Dean asked, cautiously.

His mother glanced absentmindedly for a minute out the window, "Yes, better than yesterday."

Dean's mind was racing, someone, perhaps Neville, had placed some sort of charm around the house so that the muggle inhabitants couldn't see wizards, or unless the two who were fighting outside had used a spell on themselves to make sure muggles didn't see them. The latter seemed more reasonable, although Dean had no idea whether such a spell existed, but it would be very handy f he knew how.

"How are you this morning Dean? Have your friends come to pick you up yet?" His mother smiled at him affectionately.

"I'm fine thanks mum, never slept better, looks like the warm milk really did work!" Dean said a bit over-enthusiastically to compensate for the ominous feeling he was getting. "Neville's already arrived, he's just waiting outside, I think." Or rather, thought Dean, "_I hope"._

"Great, so why don't you invite him in?"

"Err…he's kinda in a hurry, I think I'll have to leave straight away."

"Oh," said his mother sadly, "have you packed your trunk yet, do you need me to get anything for you?"

"No, everything's ready, I'll probably apparate out soon."

An awkward silence followed those words.

"Well…er…mum?"

"Yes, Dean?"

He walked towards his mum's seat and simultaneously she rose up.

"I won't see you for awhile, be safe," said Dean trying to subtly emphasise the last two words as he hugged his mum and his mum patted him softly and fondly on the head.

"Don't you worry, I'm more than double your age, you think I can't take care of myself, when I've been looking after you since you were born?" she said, and Dean could hear the smile in those words.

"Alright, I'll see you again then," said Dean making himself promise those words as he let go of his mum.

"You sure you don't want me to wake up dad or something?" she asked.

"No, no, it's alright, just tell him I'll miss him when he wakes up."

"Ok Dean, _you _be safe."

Dean smiled weakly, "I will."

He bounded up the stairs, but before entering his room, he turned left and entered his sisters' room. They both slept, side by side in one bed and holding hands, while the other was empty. They usually slept like this when one of them had a nightmare.

Stuffing the photo and newspaper (which he only realized had been clenched in his fists the whole time) in his jean pocket, he leant in close and gave each a peck on the forehead and smoothed their hair.

Dean was never good at goodbyes, and hated it when people prolonged them so much that it became rather dreary and annoying. His goodbyes were always quick and rather non-sentimental, which was quite a casual way to say bye to people he may never see again. Possibly.

He returned to his room with his satchel, found the window open and heard Neville's gran yelling "_Obliviate!" _

"_Why is my window open?"_

Before he could ponder on it, Hoot flew through the window and dropped a scrap of paper into his hands. _"More rubbish?" _thought Dean as he turned it over –

"_Couldn't get near your house, would you mind apparating to the park round the corner from your house? - Neville"_

Dean looked through the window again. The ministry official was lying on the ground, unconscious, and Neville's gran was gone.

Dean grabbed his trunk and satchel and apparated.

Or rather, tried to.

He imagined the park in his mind and the urgency to go there, before anymore officials turned up. However, he couldn't apparate, and a few minutes later, he found himself in the same room.

"_Magic can sometimes be unreliable at the worst of times,"_ grumbled Dean, _"Well, I'll just have to walk there, then."_

"Dean?" His mother popped her head around the door, "I though you would've left by now, so I came up to check if everything was alright?"

"Um, yeah, it is, its just that Neville wants me to meet him in the park because…it's…hem…more convenient to apparate there."

"Ok, would you like me to carry your trunk downstairs for you?"

"That would be great, thanks mum."

They clambered down the stairs and reached the door, Dean's mum opened it for him as he put on his shoes, and then she handed him the trunk.

"_Be safe_, please, don't get into any trouble and I'll see you at Christmas."

"Ok mum, thanks," said Dean, closing the door behind him.

He flinched as he walked past the body of the ministry official lying on the pavement, careful to make no sound.

Hoot fluttered from the opened window of his room and followed Dean as he made his way around the corner.

Before he could turn the corner, however, an eerie gloom suddenly descended upon the street.

"_Dementors,"_ thought Dean with a start, and they were moving closer, the sense of despair and grief grew stronger but they were not yet close enough to have much effect towards Dean. He still had enough time.

The last time Dean had used a Patronus charm, a burst of silver smoke erupted from his wand, he doubted he had improved much and it wasn't worth a try yelling out a charm in the middle of a street surrounded by dementors.

Dean closed his eyes again, imagining the park, he couldn't risk going that way otherwise he could end up walking into dementors. Apparition was his last resort, though he applied this with minimal faith, and was surprised when there was a loud crack and he found himself standing on the far side of the pond.

However, the crack had alerted the dementors to his whereabouts and there was one, now, gliding effortlessly across the pond which had a thin layer of ice above it.

"QUICK!"

Someone behind him grabbed his hand and within a second, they had apparated.

Neville's hand was sweaty which somewhat increased the strong grip he had on Dean's. After the sensation of apparition, Dean realized they were standing before a porch which belonged to an old, but rather cosy-looking house.

"My house," said Neville off-handedly, as he stepped onto the porch and tapped the door with his wand, the door swung inwardly and closed behind them after they had entered.

Neville's house was smaller than it appeared on the outside. It consisted of a hall which ended at the kitchen and on either side were rooms. The walls were painted in a dark red colour and portraits hung at random intervals. Pot plants which didn't seem to need sunlight were also propped on either side of the hallway, on a lush maroon carpet.

"That's gran's room," said Neville, pointing to the first wooden door to their left. "That's the guest room to your right, further on is the lounge room and the bathroom and toilet, and here," said Neville, arriving at a door on their right, just before the kitchen, "is our room, excuse the mess, I tried to tidy it up."

Neville's room was the only room painted white and provided a very stark contrast to the dark red walls. It had none of the rich furnishings, plush velvety couches and varnished wooden tables like the other rooms and had a wooden floor.

"I made sure gran wouldn't decorate it her way," he said, "that's your bed, by the window."

A mattress had been squeezed into the room next to the wardrobe so that its doors were blocked from opening. Dean placed his trunk at the end of the mattress and dumped his satchel onto his new bed.

"I said _your_ bed is by the window," said Neville with an amused expression.

Dean turned his head, the bed by the window was big and spacious, and, a proper bed.

"Don't tell me you usually sleep on a mattress squashed against your wardrobe and had this big bed moved in just for me," said Dean.

"You're my guest, I'm not going to let you sleep on the floor, besides gran would probably have a fit if she found out I let you sleep on the floor," said Neville.

"I didn't come here to enjoy a holiday, a mattress will do fine," said Dean firmly, "and anyway, where is your gran, wasn't she with you?"

"She's gone to get my books for Hogwarts."

"You mean, she wasn't with you just then?" asked Dean.

"No she left in the morning. What's the worry?"

Dean was searching through his memory, trying to picture an image of the woman who was fighting the official, up till now he had assumed it was Mrs Longbottom, but he had just been assured that he was wrong.

"You didn't happen to see a woman fighting with someone from the ministry by any chance?"

"WHAT? Outside your house?"

"Mm-hmm."

"No, I came real early, tried to knock on your door, but for some reason, every time I touched the house I was flung backwards by an invisible force, you didn't happen to put a shield around the house did you?" Neville asked.

Dean's mouth was hanging open, "Did you try to apparate in?"

"Yeah, I did, but I couldn't do that either."

"I couldn't apparate out of my house as well!" remembered Dean, "Do you think, because I know I didn't, that someone placed protective spells around my house?"

"What? But who would do that and why?"

"Well, I said I saw that woman fighting the ministry wizard, who I think worked for the muggle-born registration commission, do you think…"

"Do you know who she was?"

"No, I thought she was your gran all along."

"Do you know any witch who lives around your area?"

"No."

"Do you know anyone who would follow you around?" 

"No, I don't –"

"Anyone who's keen to protect you?"

"Ha! I doubt that."

"Any theories?"

"Nope."

"Wait, what happened to the ministry person?"

"Hmm, he lost his memory and consciousness, he was lying on the pavement when I left, and my mum couldn't see him from inside the house."

Before they could discuss any further, they heard the front door swing open, Mrs Longbottom was home.

**Extremely sorry it took me so long, but school's over now so I can afford to write fanfics all day **


	5. The Golden Key

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, sadly (otherwise I would be a billionaire by now, sigh). J.K. Rowling owns all**** the characters (except maybe a few) and parts of the plot.**

**Chapter 5 – The Golden Key**

Neville displayed a keen interest in the mysterious witch who had quite possibly saved Dean's life, but Dean, grateful for the defences around his house and the witch for fighting the ministry official, did not feel the same urgent curiosity to ponder over the woman's identity. Instead he spent the next few days worrying about his family.

When he was introduced to Mrs Longbottom, who although old was strong and quite forceful, Dean wondered how he could have ever mistaken the witch as Neville's grandmother. She had moved with a certain fluidity which could only be attributed to youth.

Though Dean was constantly entertained by Mrs Longbottom's eccentric but delicious cooking and Neville's interesting but lethal collection of plants in the backyard, he gradually grew more homesick and his yearning to be able to return to Hogwarts grew stronger as well as his desire to see Seamus again. Being locked up in a house all day, albeit with a good companion, was giving way to immense boredom and was certainly not how he wanted to spend the rest of his life.

"I'm sorry Dean, gran said it'd be safer if you stayed indoors," said Neville, five days after Dean had arrived and Neville had realised his grandmother forgot to get him his muggle studies books which had become a compulsory subject.

"But I haven't seen the sun since five days ago!" said Dean, whose temper had worsened.

"Yeah, when there were dementors standing right around the corner! No, I'm not risking it, besides the fact that gran will kill me. I can get my books from Diagon Alley myself."

"Please Neville, just take me with you before I die of boredom."

"Trust me, there will be death eaters there, you'll die anyway."

"Exactly, then let me go, I don't think death eaters will be on the lookout for muggle-born boys specifically anyway."

"No, but it's part of their job, and with school beginning in five days, they've bound to increase their numbers in case Harry turns up."

"As if Harry's going to go shopping at Diagon Alley."

"Still, they need every chance they've got."

"No, I'm not listening to you, you know I can't stay in your house forever, I'm going with you no matter what you say. Besides, where is your gran anyway?"

Neville avoided Dean's face, "She's probably sleeping in."

"No she's not, I heard her leave this morning."

Neville, whose face was flushed and looked furious said, "Oh alright, she's gone to visit a friend."

"Good, then no one will know that I left."

"No one said you were going to leave!" 

A short silence followed, and Dean resigned, Neville was right of course, it would be utterly stupid to walk into the midst of Death Eaters right now. There was something, though, perhaps in the defeated expression of Dean, but suddenly, before Dean could talk, Neville stuck his head under his bed and struggled for a good five minutes, stretching his arm to reach something buried just out of his reach. Afterwards he dragged something out of the darkness, his face a bit flustered, and handed it to Dean.

It was a silvery grey fabric which felt cool and slippery to touch. In some areas it was more worn and so there were patches where the fabric was thinning and there were places where the weaving of the fabric had loosened to produce small holes. Despite its tatty state it somehow looked quite durable and strong.

"It's an invisibility cloak, used to my dad's," mumbled Neville.

"Wow, are you going to lend it to me?"

"Yes."

"Thought you said I was going to be killed by Death Eaters."

"And if you do then I will hold you entirely responsible."

"Good, I'll take my chances."

"You sure? As far as I'm concerned, dying of boredom sounds much less painful than being murdered."

"Have you ever been bored for so long in your life?"

"Oh shut up Dean, before it becomes offensive," warned Neville, who was beginning to smile, "is my house really that bad?"

Dean decided it was a rhetorical question, he pulled the cloak over himself, which proved to be quite a nice fit, covering his whole body and leaving bit resting on the floor. He walked outside into the empty hall and stood in front of the mirror which hung between the doors of the guest room and the lounge room. Though he was expecting it, it was still quite starting to see no reflection of him in the mirror. Neville followed after him and examined Dean carefully.

"Hmm, the fabric has thinned and loosened so that some of your hair sticks through it, looks a bit suspicious, but I suppose you wouldn't see it unless you were looking for it. And…" Neville surveyed Dean, making him rotate every now and then, "you can see a bit of your jeans here, but it's very faint, I guess it'll pass."

Dean took another look at the mirror and could not find anything that Neville had just pointed out.

"Come on then, I'd rather have this quick and over and done with," said Neville dragging Dean's arm so that they were at the door.

"How are we getting there?"

"Well, I've never apparated to Diagon Alley without gran, and I don't want to appear in the middle of Death Eaters if it goes wrong…"

"We can apparate to the Leaky Cauldron first if you want to be safer, that's how I get there."

"That sounds good, though I've never tried it before, are you sure it's safe?"

"Just trust me," sighed Dean, he draped the cloak over Neville as well, "just in case," he added.

Dean envisioned the Leaky Cauldron in his mind, and with a crack they were gone.

-

"Good lord! What _was_ that?" cried the shop owner who ran to the shop front to find out what had made the deafening 'crack' a few seconds ago.

"Oops," whispered Dean, as he realised where they were.

"Whose there?" asked the shop owner.

The walls of the small bookshop were covered from ceiling to floor with book shelves laden with all sorts of books. There was also a table in the middle of the shop which also supported numerous books, some stacked in piles, others propped up. Dean had accidentally apparated them to the bookshop next to the Leaky Cauldron.

Without making any more sounds, the two of them tiptoed lightly out onto the street, leaving the shop owner looking quite dazed.

The streets were filled with people but none of them seemed to pay any attention to the shabby pub wedged against a book store and a record shop. Dean and Neville made their way into the pub, sometimes receiving curious glances from passers-by when they pushed past them. The interior of the setting was none the more glamorous and indeed had had better days. It was much emptier since the last time Dean had been there and the atmosphere was soaked in a strong sense of melancholy.

The pair made their way silently to the walled courtyard at the back, where there was nothing but a dustbin and a few weeds. Dean slipped the cloak off Neville, whose face had gone pale.

"What's wrong?" asked Dean.

"There was a death eater in there, Dolohov, I remembered him from the Department of Mysteries," whispered Neville, "I knew this was a bad idea from the start, I shouldn't have let you come with me."

"Well I'm not going back now," replied Dean firmly.

Neville looked up at him, "Alright, but I'm not going to let you enter Diagon Alley."

"What?! But that's what I came for!" retorted Dean.

"I know," said Neville, whose voice was rising beyond a whisper now, "but what if there are more death eaters in there? No, I'm not going to take any more risks, you're going to wait for me inside the Leaky Cauldron, ok?" There was a new found authority in Neville's voice and Dean, with a sigh, realised that he was right, knowing that he was just metres away from a death eater was not a comforting thought.

"Fine," said Dean, defeated by logic and reasoning. He turned to re-enter the pub.

"Wait, how do I get to Diagon Alley from here?" asked Neville.

Dean took out his wand from his jean pocket and tapped the wall with his wand, a hole began to wriggle and grow larger from the point of contact, and soon there was a gateway large enough for entry into the wizarding world beyond.

"Take care," whispered Neville, as he stepped through and Dean entered the pub glumly once again.

When he walked into the pub again, the only patrons he saw were a group of ladies chatting solemnly in the corner of the pub furthest away from him. There was no sign of any death eater, or man, for that matter.

Dean sat at the table furthest away from the counter and the group of ladies and sat in quiet reflection. Not long after however, Dean saw a man enter the pub, he was wearing a full length black robe and his head was hidden beneath a hood which hung well below his forehead, shadowing his eyes. A few strands of tan coloured hair were all that was visible beneath the hood. The man walked in wobbly long strides and reached the counter. As Dean's eyes followed him, he discovered a figure that he hadn't noticed before, hunched on the far side of the counter and hidden in the shadows. This man's face was long, pale and gaunt. Dean shifted uncomfortably in his chair, this was possibly the death eater Neville had mentioned.

As if hearing his thoughts, Dolohov looked up from his drink and for a minute seemed to stare right where Dean was sitting. A moment later, he got up from his seat and walked towards Dean's table. Dean froze and forced himself to take small, light breaths to reduce any sound he emitted, however, his heart was threatening to leap out and the sound of every beat echoed in his ears. Dolohov was two tables away from Dean's seat when suddenly the man with the tan coloured hair was standing beside Dean and took the seat opposite him. It seemed that he had only taken one long stride from the counter to the table. Dolohov, annoyed, took a seat at the table nearest to him and resumed an expression of detachment.

Dean kept a lookout on Dolohov from the corner of his eye, however the death eater was rather unperturbed and after a while left the pub. Whatever had made him approach Dean's table did not seem to be Dean.

The man who was now seated opposite Dean spent a long time looking through Dean, and Dean had the unpleasant feeling that the man could see him. He wondered if it was his hair or the patch of jeans that gave him away. Nonetheless, it felt like a long time and there was a possibility that the man now sitting across him was a death eater as well. With a shock Dean realised that perhaps that was why Dolohov had left. Maybe they were keeping watch on every aspect of Diagon Alley and Dolohov's shift had ended.

But the man finished three drinks and with his long wobbly strides, left the pub without a sound. Oddly enough, he had spent the entire time looking at Dean, or the chair where he sat. Dean's gaze followed the man once again, but his eye got caught on something shiny which was resting on the seat that the man had occupied. It was a tiny golden key.

Dean looked at the pub entrance, but there was no more sight of the man. Instead, he picked up the key and held it in his hand, concealing it beneath his cloak. The metal against his hand was cool, Dean turned it over and began a scrutiny of the key but before he got far, he heard footsteps behind him. The key was stuffed quickly in his pocket.

Neville was clutching some books in his hands and gave Dean a peculiar gaze. He moved his head, indicating that they should leave, however he directed this to the left of Dean which looked amusing, but the novelty of the moment soon passed. As Dean got up from his seat, he put one hand on Neville's shoulder to show where he was and they exited the pub without a word.

Outside where the streets were noisier and bits of conversation floated in the atmosphere, Dean asked Neville how he'd known where he was.

"Well it was the furthest one from the counter and the ladies, I thought it would be the most ideal seat." Said Neville, Dean nodded, knowing that Neville couldn't see him.

"Did Dolohov do anything?"

"No, he left after a while."

"Good."

"Do you need all those books for Muggle Studies?" asked Dean, referring to the pile of books Neville was carrying with some difficulty.

"No, most of them are to do with herbology, I got a bit carried away, that's why I was late," said Neville, blushing slightly.

"You weren't late," reassured Dean, who could relate Neville's passion with his idolization of the West Ham football team.

They walked till they turned a corner into a deserted alleyway. Dean draped the cloak over Neville and together, they apparated.

-

When they returned home it was a relief that Mrs Longbottom had not gotten back yet. Neville set about reading his new books in the lounge room, while Dean, complaining that he was tired, said he was going back to sleep as it was still the morning. When he closed the door to Neville's room, Dean folded the cloak and placed it next to Neville's bed, then he took out the key.

It was one of those old-fashioned keys, the ones that appear in fairytales and stories, not the ones in the modern muggle-world. Dean knew it had to have something to do with the wizarding world, but there were many items that had locks. He had come to the conclusion that the man had left it purposely behind. It was placed in the exact centre of the seat where it was in clear view of Dean, and Dean had not seen anything drop or fall from the man's body when he got up.

Though Dean hadn't given much thought to past events, the protective enchantments, the witch and now the golden key were mysteries that were beginning to frustrate him as he lay on the mattress in a position of relative tranquility.


	6. Harry Potter

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, sadly (otherwise I would be a billionaire by now, sigh). J.K. Rowling owns all the characters (except maybe a few) and most of the plot.**

**Chapter 6 – Harry Potter**

"Hurry up Neville, you'll miss your train!" cried Mrs Longbottom from the entrance of the house.

Neville quickly stuffed the herbology book which he had been reading late last night into his filled trunk and smiled solemnly at Dean.

"Sorry you couldn't come with us," apologised Neville.

They had had the same conversation last night. Dean was disappointed that he couldn't go to King's Cross with them but after the encounter with Dolohov, he knew better than to go. There were possibly going to be even more death eaters there than in Diagon Alley.

Hoot was hooting softly on Dean's shoulder and for awhile it was comforting. Then Dean got up and helped Neville carry his trunk to the front door where Mrs Longbottom was waiting impatiently.

"Hurry along, Neville, and thank you Dean dear," she said.

Dean waved goodbye to the two as they walked out and apparated together, Hoot was fluttering wildly around him.

"What is it Hoot?" asked Dean as he closed the door.

Hoot flew back into Neville's room followed closely by Dean. The brown owl rested on Neville's bedside table atop Neville's muggle studies book.

"Oh no, he's forgotten his book," said Dean, he took it up in his hands and placed it in his satchel.

"Think I better give it to him?"

Hoot hooted.

"_Good, this is just the excuse I need to go to King's Cross and see Seamus one last time__," _thought Dean.

Hoot flew back on top of the wardrobe where he had been resting every day during daylight. He sat there like a statue, his eyes closed.

Dean immediately got down on all fours, searching under Neville's bed for the invisibility cloak. When he felt the familiar touch of the fabric underneath his fingers, he whipped it out and draped it around him.

"_Looking good,"_ he thought.

Without another delay, Dean ran outside until he was out of bounds of the anti-disapparition jinx around the Longbottom house and apparated to the familiar setting of King's Cross Station.

-

He found himself standing next to the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. As usual in the morning, men dressed in grey suits and women carrying handbags and suitcases marched glumly off to work. Trains arrived and departed, clouding the place with billows of smoke and a red-head girl was carrying a trunk. She was surrounded by her red-head family except for the absence of Ron and Percy Weasley.

Ginny looked quite miserable and pale, the past events had obviously troubled her as well as the absence of Ron. Dean believed that wherever Ron was, Harry was sure to be with him, he hoped they were safe and glad that they too were not returning to Hogwarts. His face blushed a little and his heart quickened its pace when Ginny turned her head around and looked exactly at the place where he was standing. Though she looked extremely tired and skinny, it was essentially the same person and the familiarity enlivened Dean and also reassured him, though unfortunately their relationship was now just a memory.

Without hesitation and determined that he would walk through the barrier before Ginny got there and perhaps saw the pieces of floating hair through his cloak, Dean walked at a brisk pace into the barrier – and out through the other side, walking straight into a death eater.

"Whose there?" grumbled the man in a gruff voice. The Death Eater mask turned towards Dean and he found himself starring at a skull.

Dean quickly turned back and retreated.

"Where are you?" yelled the voice over the sound of students.

At once all the death eaters on the station turned their eyes towards the man.

"There's someone here who's invisible, find him NOW."

Immediately the Death Eaters set to work, walking along the station. The chatter of the students had stopped as they looked in horror at the skull-masked men searching through every corner of the station.

"HE'S THERE, SOMEWHERE NEAR THAT GIRL OVER THERE," shouted the Death Eater as Pansy gave a shriek where Dean had accidentally touched her while trying to escape.

Suddenly, there was a Death Eater standing in front of him and Dean could just picture the grin underneath the horrific mask.

"Going anywhere?" the voice sneered.

Dean stumbled back, pushed past a pack of Hufflepuffs and dodged two Death Eaters. His wand was in his hand now as he ran, almost a lap of the station, keeping his eyes open for Neville and Seamus. Soon, Dean found himself at the barrier where Ginny had just ran through and inevitably, the two collided. The force of the collision pushed Ginny onto the floor.

"Harry, is that you?" she whispered.

Dean, whose heart had twisted slightly at the response, realised they were being surrounded by a circle of Death Eaters.

"Reveal yourself, Potter," demanded the figure closest to him.

Dean's mouth was dry, as he struggled to get the words out, the Death Eaters began to close in on him. It was all over.

"OW!" hollered Draco Malfoy who was standing ten metres away near the front of the train. His face was twisted with an expression of pain and he whipped his wand out.

"IT WAS POTTER, I SAW HIM, HE PERFORMED A STINGING HEX ON ME!!! DON'T JUST STAND THERE, GET HIM!" he directed to Crabbe and Goyle who were standing idly beside Malfoy. They turned their head back and fourth but saw no one.

"IDIOTS!" yelled Malfoy, "THERE HE IS." Malfoy was pointing faraway into the distance, where a figure was shrouded in a cloak.

By now, Malfoy had caught the attention of the entire school as well as the Death Eaters who flew off in the direction of the figure, leaving Dean and Ginny where they were. The Weasleys immediately hurried to Ginny's side and Dean had to hurry to get out of their way. Having finally spotted Neville, who was standing with a shocked expression on his face, hands hanging limply, jaw dropping, Dean slipped the book into his hands. Neville almost jumped, before gasping, "It was you?"

Dean patted Neville on the shoulder, and gazed around the station one last time. "Harry Potter" had disappeared and the Death Eaters were still reluctantly searching that end of the station. The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws suddenly voiced phrases of support for Harry and booed at the Death Eaters. As the noises grew louder and louder, Dean exploited the moment of confusion and was about to apparate when someone approached him from behind

"Oh no, you're not going anywhere. _Accio Cloak._"

It was the Death Eater that Dean had first run into, he was the only Death Eater who had stayed behind. Dean discovered to his dismay that the cloak was slowly slipping off him, without thinking, Dean apparated.

Unfortunately, the first place that came to Dean's mind was not the Longbottom house. He was standing in a place vaguely familiar. However, other more pressing matters caught his immediate attention. Firstly, he was splinched, there was a deep gash that was bleeding uncontrollably on his right upper arm. Secondly, the noise he made had attracted unwanted attention. Somewhere in the distance voices were yelling and the unmistakable sound of footsteps was making its way towards Dean.

**Sorry the chapter's a bit short and there might be a few typos and spelling mistakes because I really wanted to get this chapter done so I could get to the more exciting bits.**


	7. The Hog's Head

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, sadly (otherwise I would be a billionaire by now, sigh). J.K. Rowling owns all the characters (except maybe a few) and most of the plot.**

**Chapter 7 – The Hog's Head**

Blood dripped onto the pavement and the running figure of a Death Eater could just be spotted near the other end of the street. Dean ran behind the nearest building, hiding behind its walls, his invisibility cloak now gone. Peering around the corner, he caught site of the man who had stopped outside a shop with the sign 'Gladrags Wizardwear', squinting into the street.

With a sudden realization and pounding heart, Dean saw that he was in the wizard village of Hogsmeade and was hiding behind none other than the derelict pub in which Dumbledore's Army had first met; The Hog's Head.

The wizard was beginning to advance down the street, Dean jerked his head back. There was a shuffle of footsteps behind him, he turned around and saw nothing, but felt a cold fear spread through him from head to toe. Heart beating extremely fast now, Dean poked his head again and saw to his surprise that the Death Eater had stopped and was retreating from the front of the Hog's Head. Before Dean could walk away from Hogsmeade, the back door of the pub flew open and the owner almost grabbed blindly for a few times before he finally made contact the Dean's arm.

"Ow!" Dean couldn't help exclaiming when the barman had brushed past his injury.

"Shut up boy, or there'll be more of them coming," the bar owner said in a gruff whisper.

Dean was dragged into the grubby and dusty interior of the deserted Hog's Head, through the door behind the counter and up a rickety wooden staircase into a sitting room with a threadbare carpet, a fireplace and a large oil painting of a young, sweet-looking blonde girl.

The pub owner never let go of Dean's arm and with his wand prodded Dean's head with it. At once the chilly sensation he had felt before was replaced with a comforting warmth oozing down his body.

"Yer pale, yer've lost a lot of blood I gather," and the man disappeared, returning shortly with a bottle labeled, "_Essence of Dittany"_. He applied two drops of this on Dean's wound and greenish smoke began to swell upwards, when it cleared, Dean's injury looked a few days old, the blood had stopped bleeding and new, raw-looking skin was in the process of growing.

"Any idea who performed the Disillusionment charm on you?" he asked.

"_The what?"_ thought Dean.

The sound of people entering the pub from the floor below halted their conversation, "Stay here, don't move, and keep silent," warned the bar man quietly as he placed the dittany on a small table on top of a copy of the _Prophet_ from a few weeks ago.

Bits of the conversation floated up the stairs. Most were incomprehensible mumblings about potions or some other magical substances that Dean could not relate to. His mind, instead, drifted onto the newspaper which he silently read. A thought had been bothering him ever since he set foot into the Hog's Head and as Dean read the article, the nagging suspicion in his mind was confirmed.

The newspaper was dated sometime near the beginning of the summer holidays, the picture of Dumbledore which accompanied the article was what attracted Dean. He had read Elphias Doge's obituary of Dumbledore before and now sat about skim reading it, knowing there was something in here that he needed to recall…

"_Three years after we had started at Hogwarts, Albus's brother, Aberforth, arrived at school. They were not alike; Aberforth was never bookish…"_

"Did you see anything fishy going on?"

The comment which had reached Dean's ears from the conversation downstairs stopped his reading as he strained to hear more words. Whoever had asked it, the question was framed more like an accusation. Dean tried to follow the dialogue more closely, but as if purposely trying to mock him, the voices had lowered and Dean could not hear any sound at all.

When at last the bar owner climbed up the stairs again, Dean was relieved that there was no Death Eater following behind him. Instead the bright blue eyes and wiry, grey hair verified that this man was Aberforth Dumbledore.

"Mr Dumbledore?"

Being able to say "Dumbledore" again and actually call someone by the name seemed to have enkindled a new sense of hope and reassurance in Dean. The fact that Dumbledore had a sibling felt like wonderful, glorious news, and a promise that Albus's work would continue and that Voldemort would be thwarted.

However, Aberforth did not reply and simply bent down to pick up the dittany and return it to its original place, he hesitated for a second and also picked up the copy of the _Prophet_ throwing it in the bin along the way.

"Mr Dumbledore?" Dean tried again, warily.

Aberforth, now looking at a mirror perched on the mantelpiece of the fireplace and had his back to Dean, snapped, "Don't call me that."

"Er…Aberforth?"

There was no reply.

"Forthy?"

"Abey?"

"Berfor?"

"Mr Aberforth Dumbledore?"

"ALRIGHT, JUST CALL ME ABE."

"Abe, can I ask you a few questions?" Dean's eyes followed Aberforth as he reached for the chair beside him, trying to interpret his reaction and whether or not he was going to be snapped at again.

"No, keep your questions to yourself," Aberforth grunted.

Dean hesitated before asking, "Do Death Eaters come here often?"

This was clearly not the question Aberforth was expecting because soon enough, he answered.

"Now and then, they drop in for a visit. Especially as there's more and more of 'em, soon they'll be dementors running 'round the place, it's not a good idea for you to stay, boy."

"I have no where to go," said Dean quietly, more to himself than anybody else, though when these words came out he did contemplate returning to the Longbottom's.

"Then stay here, it'll be safe for a few days at least. How's your arm?" he grumbled.

"It's good."

"Well good then," Aberforth repeated.

"Wait," Dean said as Aberforth raised from his seat, "Forgot to ask you" –

- "More questions?" groaned Aberforth.

"Just…what was that about a Disillusion Charm?"

"Disillusionment Charm," corrected Aberforth, "Didn't you wonder why that Death Eater left you alone when he clearly saw something, _fishy_?"

"He…I don't know."

"Nah course you didn't, you just stood there gaping like a fish in a fishbowl," Aberforth grunted, "I'd be burying your body right now if someone hadn't made you invisible. That's what the charm does. You know its happenin' to you when there's that chilly sensation in your body."

Dean recalled the feeling now, like someone had poured ice water over his head, only it was a lot thicker.

"Did you see who did it?" he enquired.

"Think they wouldn't have used the Disillusionment Charm on themselves first, eh?"

"Right," said Dean.

"One more thing," said Aberforth.

"Hmm?"

"Don't let my name instill a sense of false faith in yer, as far as I'm concerned we're dead. Best if yer leave the country soon as you can boy."

"Your optimistic attitude is very encouraging," said Dean sourly.

-

There was nothing for Dean to do in the next few days except to keep up-to-date with the news and Aberforth's moody moments. Though it seemed more and more Death Eaters were arriving in Hogsmeade, Dean had gained a sense of security in the Hog's Head.

On the day Dean arrived in Hogsmeade, he was horrified to discover that Snape had become the new headmaster. The following day he had caught Aberforth talking to one of his client about a rumour that the Ministry being infiltrated by Harry, Hermione and Ron in a series of quick whispers.

Pius Thicknesse the new appointed Minister of Magic was waving from the covers of many _Daily Prophets_. Aberforth had said the man looked as thick as his name sounded and Dean could not agree less after reading proposed theories from the _Quibbler_ that Thicknesse was likely to be under the Imperius Curse.

Hoot joined Dean after his first week at the Hog's Head and Aberforth had seemed to take a special liking to the owl. He would send it on errands and Dean had noticed on some nights, Hoot and he would sit by the only window of the second floor of the Hog's Head.

Despite the pessimistic manner of Aberforth, he had spent every night tuning his wireless in attempt to reach a station he proclaimed, "tells stuff the way it is." Dean also noticed an impassive attitude whenever Aberforth heard, read or saw anything concerning his brother.

"Aren't you sad that your brother's dead, Abe?"

"For all I know it was probably for _the greater good_."

"The greater good?"

"Lunchtime now boy, I'll bring some food up fer ya, eh?" and Aberforth hurried down the stairs.

"Wait!" called out Dean, "You never asked me my name."

Aberforth, now poised in mid-step, mumbled, "I'm not fussed with names, they never did me any good."

"I'm Dean Thomas."

"Well Mr Thomas, you want lunch or not?"

-

Dean woke up with a start to a frosty morning during the beginning of October, he had dreamed the cold sensation from the Disillusionment Charm again and had turned around to see who it was but found himself face to face with a dementor who was moving closer, its clawed hand gripping Dean's chin.

As he recalled his dream he realised something cold and smooth was in his hands, it was the tiny golden key Dean had picked up from the Leaky Cauldron. He had spent last night wondering who the brunette man was but at some stage, must have fallen asleep. He now returned the key to his pocket. Dean had spent every night sleeping in the sitting room. There was only one room, Aberforth's, and Dean had declined his offer to sleep in the grubby-looking room, at least in the sitting room it was brighter because of the window.

As if straight on cue, there was a tapping noise at the window. Dean threw the blanket off him and walked quickly towards it, it was Hoot and at its feet was a rolled piece of parchment. Dean swiftly opened the window and silently closed it again, careful to be quiet because Aberforth was still sleeping. Some of the chilly mist which was swirling outside had made its way into the room. Dean shivered but hungrily unrolled the parchment Hoot had delivered. It was a letter from Seamus and Neville. Dean had told them he was safe but declined giving any clues of his whereabouts, to the disappointment of Neville, and in particular, his grandmother.

_Our artist friend,_

_Sorry it's been so long, ever since the incident at the station, Hogwarts has been monitored really closely and it's only loosened a little recently. They don't even let us go to Hogsmeade anymore._

_They've questioned Malfoy about the whole fiasco but he couldn't remember a thing. Professor McGonagall said that it was likely Malfoy was under the Imperius Curse but she wouldn't say anything more. I think she knows that figure wasn't Harry, he wouldn't be so careless and appear in front of Death Eaters like that._

_We have our suspicions though. Malfoy yelled out exactly when the Death Eaters were closing in on you, so we think someone was trying to help you out. Do you remember the witch at your house? It could be her._

_Anyway be careful and don't trust anyone, there's definitely someone following you around, but I think if they were truly helping you, they would have presented themselves to you by now._

_Seamus and Neville_

Something in their definite tone alarmed Dean. He hadn't told them about the key and the Disillusionment Charm yet and decided not to, lest they become too worried. The thought that someone was following him sent shivers down his spine, none of his family were wizards and his friends, as far as he knew, were imprisoned at Hogwarts. Most importantly, he did not know of any witch who was intent on keeping him alive.

Suddenly a creaky noise filled the air which meant the door to the pub had just swung open and someone had entered. Dean could hear footsteps crossing quickly over the threshold and then, to Dean's horror, straight up the stairs.

"_Do Death Eaters come here often?"_

"_Now and then, they drop in for a visit."_

_But he didn't mention they'd be coming up the stairs._

Dean quickly whipped out his wand from his jeans pocket, which he had slept in, and cried, "_Expelliarmus!"_

A willowy wand flew through the air and rested gently in Dean's left hand. The remainder of the stairs was quickly climbed and Aberforth emerged from the stairs.

"I save your life and you disarm me? Is this what they teach you at Hogwarts? I knew Al wasn't a promising headmaster. Now gimme my wand back," Aberforth demanded.

"S…sorrry," stammered Dean, "I thought you were still sleeping cause the door to your room was closed and…uh…thought it might be one of those Death Eaters…yeah," he finished.

"Speaking of which," said Aberforth as he pocketed his wand and gave Dean a plate piled with toast for breakfast, "I was just out on the street chattin', an' it appears that the dementors are starting to arrive, see the mist," here Aberforth beckoned to the window, "There's also talk that a Caterwauling Charm's gonna be put into effect as well as a curfew."

Dean continued chewing his toast patiently, though he was already considering his options.

"The dementors have already placed a charm so that no one can disapparate from Hogsmeade. I suggest you leave today, before the ''ole lot o' them come," said Aberforth.

"But how do I leave and where can I go?"

"Where can I go?" hollered Aberforth, "Leave the country Dean, find somewhere safe and peaceful where there ain't any wizards and live a content muggle life, what's wrong with that?"

"But can't I ever come back? When it's over?"

"COME BACK? COME BACK? IT'S NEVER GOING TO BE OVER, ALBUS WAS WRONG, AND YOU-KNOW-WHO WINS. THAT'S HOW THE STORY ENDS."

Dean was taken aback by Aberforth's sudden outburst, but the man continued.

"Stupid Albus, the arrogant fool, thought he could save the world, but all he ended up doing was get everyone around him killed and brainwashed the rest of them into believing it was all for the stupid _greater good_." Aberforth sunk into the couch and buried his head in his hands, the girl in the portrait had a sad expression on her face.

Hoot, who had been observing the conversation in silence, now left the mantelpiece and rested on Aberforth's shoulder.

"Sorry Abe," said Dean quietly, sensing conflict between the two brothers, "What I meant was, how am I going to get out of here if I can't disapparate?"

Aberforth sighed and looked at Dean, his brow was knitted in an expression of thought, "There's one way."

"What way?"

"Do you know how to produce a patronus?"

"No – well yes, in a room filled with friends and when I was feeling relatively safe and happy."

"Well that's sure gonna help cause dementors always make people feel happy."

-

Twenty minutes later, Dean had mounted on an ancient-looking broom which had once belonged to Aberforth's. Hoot flew beside him and his satchel was swung over his shoulder.

"Just watch out, there might be dementors up there, and they can sense you."

"Right…er…thanks. How am I going to return the broom?"

"Ah, keep it, I don't have time to fly around, I've been using the broom for cleaning ever since I opened the pub." No wonder the broom was hovering so enthusiastically. Every now and then it would emit a sound like it was revving up.

"Well it's misty today, so no use having a Disillusionment Charm, cause you don't know how to negate it anyway."

"Mm-hmm."

"I've also placed some money in your bag."

"You what?"

"It should last awhile till you get a muggle job," said Aberforth with emphasis on the word 'muggle'.

"Thanks Abe, I don't know how to thank you."

"Keep yourself safe so I don't regret saving yer."

There was an awkward silence before Aberforth added, "Oh and beware of snatchers, they'll be looking for muggle-borns like you."

"Thanks for the warning Abe," at this the broom hovered even higher, eager to fly off.

Aberforth who also noticed the sudden elevation stood back and said, "Well, it's lucky you're a chaser."

Dean nodded, "Bye Abe."

"Goodbye boy."

The broom, with a mind of its own suddenly lurched forwards towards the sky and when Dean looked back he saw Hogsmeade growing exponentially smaller. As he said one last goodbye to Aberforth in his mind, he realised that he had never told Aberforth he was a quidditch player.


	8. The Silver Bird

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, I only own a few characters and bits of the plot. There may also be direct quotations taken out of the book.**

**Chapter 8 – The Silver Bird**

He had been flying for ages, at least two hours now and the broom showed no sign of exhaustion, in fact, every time Dean told it to slow down it would either ignore him or accelerate. Undoubtedly they had covered a lot of ground but two hours of solid flying had left Dean tired and his seating position was becoming very uncomfortable. The mist had cleared but Dean had no way of telling where he was, most of it was countryside so it was safe to fly quite low as no one was looking. Hoot had flown off half an hour ago to hunt for food.

_Another half hour and I'll land._

The remainder of the flight was uneventful and as Dean had no watch, he didn't know how long they had been flying when the mist suddenly grew thicker. Dean's mind was immediately caught in a vortex of spinning images. He was being sent to Azkaban by the Muggle-born registration committee. He was a baby and his mother was crying and sobbing that his father would never come back. Seamus and his family lay dead beside him. The thought that this was a war they would never win. The thought that he was going to have to suppress his magical knowledge and live amongst muggles for the rest of his life. He saw Hogwarts; empty and devastated.

"_Expecto Patronum!"_

A wisp of silver smoke erupted from the tip of Dean's wand and the two Dementors closest to Dean retreated. However, there were more of them coming and the Patronus Dean had produced had already dispersed and faded.

Dean concentrated his thoughts on Seamus, the time when he had played his first quidditch match, and when he was sorted into Gryffindor.

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_

His second Patronus was another wisp of silver smoke which possibly looked duller against the pitch black of the sky.

The Dementors around him joined in a circle, their rags swaying, their clawed hands, each reaching out to Dean, they moved closer, enclosing Dean in a circle of despair.

_This is it, I'm going to die._

Dean's wand arm rested limply by his side, but his broom suddenly took a sharp dive and flung Dean backwards so that he had to hold on to the handle otherwise he'd fall. They were flying at extreme speed and Dean could not see through the dark, however he could sense the Dementors following him. The broom, which seemed to be thinking the same, increased its speed until Dean felt as if the skin on his face was tearing away from him. Abruptly, the broom halted, and Dean lurched forward and flew off his broom, doing a somersault in mid-air and landing his behind on the ground, the broom hovered a few inches above him.

But the Dementors were still following him. They glided in a gloomy elegance towards Dean, their rags floating behind them. One of them grabbed Dean's chin with their skeletal hand. Dean felt as though he had been plunged in icy cold water. The Dementor, now hungry for food, moved in on Dean and its hood flew back, revealing nothing but a hole which it began using to suck the happiness out of Dean. Dean felt the transfer, the tug, as if all his memories were being attracted like a magnet to the beast, like he would never be happy again.

Whatever happened next happened very fast. A silver bird appeared and circled Dean twice, deterring the Dementors which immediately returned to the skies, then furiously, it flew after them at an astonishing speed. Dean saw the wings of the bird but he too was dazzled by its silvery brilliance, as well as the whole countryside, which now shone with a silver sheen. As the bird flew on, it looked like a star in the distance and the sky was returned to daylight, as it was before. Dean had gathered that it was past noon now, and as he sat there, remembering the bird, he decided, despite Aberforth's warnings, that he was not going to leave. He was going to fight, just like Harry, Ron and Hermione, and every other witch and wizard who didn't want a future like this.

"You alright son?"

Dean turned around to see a round-bellied man with fair hair speaking to him.

"Thanks, thanks for saving my life," said Dean, still in awe of the beautiful bird.

The man looked slightly confused, "Oh no, no that Patronus wasn't mine…"

"Then…did you see who did it?"

The man shook his head.

_Another mystery, really it's becoming too much._

"You look like you should still be in school."

_Are you kidding me? I'm taller than most of the Hogwarts staff._

"Yeah, only I can't, too many Death Eaters there, I'm a muggle born, you see," said Dean glumly.

"Didn't register did you?"

"No, I suppose you're a muggle born too?"

"Yeah, they were in the area last week so I had to make a run for it, left my wife behind, but she's a pure-blood, she'll be ok."

"It's a hard feeling isn't it? Leaving your family behind…"

"Yes," said the man sadly, the melancholy in his voice reflecting exactly how Dean felt.

Dean got up, brushing the dirt off his body, and the broom became still and fell to the ground like someone had clicked the off switch. Dean picked up its splintery handle and suddenly Hoot seemed to appear in thin air and fluttered close by the duo.

"You just missed the best thing, Hoot," whispered Dean.

Hoot gave him a look as if to say, "I know."

"You don't mind," started Dean to the stranger, "if I follow you around?"

"I think we had better stick together, it'll be easier to fight off snatchers and Death Eaters. My name's Ted Tonks by the way."

"I'm Dean Thomas."

They shook hands.

Ted pulled out a faded photo from his pocket, "Is this yours? I think you might have dropped it when you fell off your broom."

Dean took the photo but he didn't recognise the picture at all, it was an old wedding photo, the two unfamiliar figures were frozen, so it was a muggle photo.

"No, I don't think it's mi-"

Hoot gave a soft squawk.

_Oh right, I remember you bringing home this rubbish._

"Would you mind if I had a look at that?"

Dean casually handed the photo to Ted Tonks who studied for a while, a flicker of recognition lighting up his face.

"I know this woman."

"Who?"

"Fiona Carrophs," he said, as the pair walked towards a small country village, "she was head girl when I was in first year at Hogwarts, brilliant witch, won lots of awards."

"Really?" asked Dean, mildly interested, but more concerned about how Hoot had managed to get hold of the picture.

"I heard she'd married a muggle called Dean Smith," said Ted, returning the photo to Dean.

Dean's attention was caught by the mention of his name.

They were now walking through the village which was relatively calm and peaceful. A man sat on a wooden bench outside a grocery store, un-jumbling words in the newspaper. A young girl sat restlessly beside him, finally asking in a childish slur, "Papa, why do you love jumbled words so much?"

"Anagrams can be completely irrelative to the original word in meaning, but are essentially born from the same letters, and can sometimes make very strong disguises which when uncovered seem blatantly obvious."

The girl stared at her grandpa with confusion and the old man smiled at Dean and Ted, pausing for a fraction of a moment at Dean's ancient broom, as they walked past.

"After we pass this village, there's a river not far off, thought we could stay by there a few days."

Dean nodded, though his mind was elsewhere.

_Dean Smith. Dean Smith. Dean Smith. Dean Smith. Dean Smith. Dean Smith. Dean Smith. Dean Smith._

Were they somehow related? Was there a reason why Dean was holding his wedding photo in his hands right now? Did he have something to do with the all the mysterious things that had been happening lately? Dean wished he had the answer to all these questions as he slipped the photo back into his satchel.

"So, how did you get that picture?" asked Ted.

"Oh," said Dean, "Hoot here picked it up for me on one of his night flights."

As they continued through the village, somewhere close by, Dean was being watched.

**Won't be updating for a week, going on a holiday!**


	9. Plight and flight

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, I only own a few characters**** and bits of the plot. There are also direct quotations taken out of the book which I might have shortened but essentially they mean the same thing.**

**Chapter 9 – Plight and flight**

With his wand tucked in his trouser pocket and a bit of muggle money he had managed to find in his satchel tucked in his fist, Dean made his way quietly to the village in hope of buying some more edible food for dinner rather than living off the fish in the river. The sun was setting and the village was shrouded in a lovely purple light as the sun disappeared slowly. It was peaceful, quiet and deserted, many people had already returned home early because of the newly-imposed curfew.

The only thing Ted Tonks had, other than his wand and some wizard money, was a pocket wireless he kept with him and like Aberforth, he would spend each night tuning it to find the rather elusive program, _Potterwatch._ When Dean finally got to hear the program he was surprised at the familiarity of the voices and quickly grew hungry for more news. There were warnings that some wizards had recommenced the illegal activity of muggle-hunting and the program had urged listeners to place shield charms over their muggle neighbour's house. Ted may have gone a bit too far, every house in the village was now protected and the mayor had been Imperiused into introducing a curfew.

Dean reached the main street with all the stores and saw that most of the owners had begun packing up for the day. Dean went to the grocery store and bought a loaf of bread and some marmalade which was all he could afford. As he walked silently back towards the river, the last of the shops closed down and an ominous silence descended upon the town.

Then Dean heard it, a cacophonous combination of grunts and groans.

When he was at the outskirts of the village the grunts came again, only they didn't sound like outlets of frustration, more like a dialogue, a language, maybe.

"Did you see them come here?" said a deep and hollow voice.

Hurried footsteps and whispers.

"I saw them heading here, they're probably somewhere in this village," replied a second voice.

Suddenly there was a big yell, "HE'S THERE, I SAW HIM!"

At the same time Dean flickered his wand and whispered "_Muffliato"_.

"STUPEFY!"

A jet of red light illuminated the town in a red glow, Dean saw the shadows of a man and two imp-like creatures run past, tailed by two men with their wands held high.

Dean quickly ran through the trees and the bushes till he reached the riverside where Ted Tonks sat patiently and Dean's broom was propped up against some rocks. Here, any sense of worry was drowned by the soothing sounds of the river current.

"Ted! There are wizards in the village!" said Dean through pants and gasps.

"Wizards?"

Dean quickly stuffed the bread and the spread in his satchel as they raced back to the village.

"I'm telling ya Cresswell, I don't have much patience for hide-and-seek games," said the man with the hollow voice, immediately after Dean and Ted reached the village.

"Dirk!" cried Ted, as he took his wand out.

"There's more of them!" exclaimed the gruff second voice.

Ted and Dean followed the voice to its origin which led them to the main street. Two men were duelling the man which Dean assumed to be Dirk Cresswell, who according to _Potterwatch_ had been sent to Azkaban.

"_Petrificus Totalus!"_ cried Ted, whose curse hit one of the men square on the chest. The other continued to duel Dirk while his partner went rigid and collapsed onto the ground.

Hexes and jinxes were thrown and curses were dodged, however the man soon had Dirk pressed against a wall.

"No where to go now," said the man in a nasty drawl.

He raised his wand, but before he could get the words out Dean cried, "_Expelliarmus!"_ The wand flew out of his hands and landed on the ground next to Dean.

Dirk, seizing the moment cried "_Stupefy!"_ The man immediately became unconscious and fell to the floor.

Ted had wiped the memory of both the men while they were weakened by the attack. As the three wizards stood to look at their handiwork, two goblins appeared out of the shadows and stood beside Dirk.

The two men, whom Dirk referred to as ministry officials, now sat back to back, both stunned and wordless.

"Best get going," said Ted.

They retreated back into the reassuring coverage of the trees and walked toward the river, where Ted drank some water from his cupped hands. The two goblins whispered something between them in that dissonant language of theirs again.

Dirk crouched beside the river bank and said, "There ought to be a few salmon in here, or d'you reckon it's too early in the season? _Accio Salmon!_"

There were several splashes and salmons leapt out of the water and onto Dirk's lap. It was a rather peculiar sight. The goblins immediately commenced talking again and over their jarring voices, Ted summoned several sticks and a fire was soon lit.

Salmon was passed around the group which smelt good but had a strong fishy stench once Dean bit into it, he remembered the bread that he had bought a distributed it to the others as well as the marmalade. Questions and answers were exchanged and it turned out that Dirk Cresswell had escaped on the way to Azkaban.

"And where do you two fit in? I, er, had the impression that the goblins were for You-Know-Who, on the whole," asked Ted referring to the goblins, Gornuk and Griphook.

"You had a false impression," said Griphook, "We take no sides. This is a wizards' war."

"How come you're in hiding, then?"

"Gringotts is no longer under the sole control of my race. I recognise no wizarding master."

Griphook whispered something in Goobledegook and Gornuk laughed.

"What's the joke?" asked Dean.

"He said," replied Dirk, "that there are things wizards don't recognise, either."

"Dean and I are still missing something here," said Ted.

"So is Severus Snape, though he doesn't know it," said Griphook, as the two goblins gave a nasty laugh.

Dean raised his eyebrows, looking at Ted with confusion.

"Didn't you here about that, Ted?" asked Dirk, "About the kids who tried to steal Gryffindor's sword out of Snape's office at Hogwarts?"

Dean's heart skipped a beat, he could guess who they were.

"Griphook here told me, he heard about it from Bill Weasley who works for the bank. One of the kids who tried to take the sword was Bill's younger sister."

'_I knew it,' _thought Dean, whose grip tightened on his bread as he took a fierce bite out of it.

"She and a couple of friends got into Snape's office and smashed open the glass case where he was apparently keeping the sword. Snape caught them as they were trying to smuggle it down the staircase. Couple of days later Snape sent the sword down to Gringotts instead."

Here the goblins roared with laughter.

"I'm still not seeing the joke," said Ted.

"It's a fake," rasped Griphook.

Dean jolted at the sudden revelation.

"Oh, yes. It is a copy – an excellent copy, it is true – but it was wizard-made. The original was forged centuries ago by goblins and had certain properties only goblin-made armour possesses. Wherever the genuine sword of Gryffindor is, it is not in a vault at Gringotts Bank."

"I see," said Ted.

"What happened to Ginny and the others?" The ones who tried to steal it?" asked Dean eagerly.

"Oh they were punished, and cruelly," said Griphook indifferently.

Dean flinched as he imagined Ginny - and probably Neville too – with bruises all over their bodies, and felt like strangling Griphook for his indifference and the fact that the Gryffindor sword was a fake and their efforts were wasted, not that he could entirely blame this on the goblins.

"They're OK, though?" asked Ted quickly, "I mean the Weasleys don't need any more of their kids injured, do they?"

"They suffered no serious injury, as far as I am aware," said Griphook, as if he couldn't care less.

"Lucky for them," said Ted, "With Snape's track record, I suppose we should just be glad they're still alive."

"You believe that story, then, do you, Ted?" asked Dirk. "You believe Snape killed Dumbledore?"

"Course I do," said Ted, "You're not going to sit there and tell me you think Potter had anything to do with it?"

"Hard to know what to believe these days," muttered Dirk.

"I know Harry Potter," said Dean defensively, "And I reckon he's the real thing – the Chosen One, or whatever you want to call it."

Dean, slightly disheartened, sat back and ate his bread. He was a bit tired of the goblins' cold indifference and Dirk's accusations towards Harry, and he wasn't surprised when Dirk began insulting the _Quibbler_ either.

After dinner, the group agreed to sleep under the cover of the trees that night and headed up the wooded slope.

**I'm sorry that most of this chapter was taken from the book, but it was a necessary fill-in that I had to do. ****Thanks for all the reviews guys!**


	10. Snatched

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, but I wouldn't mind having it!**

**Sorry it's been such a long time since I updated, I've been too busy holidaying and thanks for all the reviews. As for fillers, I'm thinking that my story might be a bit too fast-paced too, as I read back over it, it doesn't sound smooth at all, but I had already typed this chapter and I'm too lazy to rewrite it!****  
**

**Chapter 10 – Snatched**

Winter came and Christmas rolled by as if Dean had nothing to do with it. No Christmas tree, no presents, no big dinners with his family, but only snow which turned out to be quite a nuisance when you're on the run. Firstly, everywhere is wet, secondly, you don't want to leave footsteps in the snow, and thirdly, it was very, extremely cold. The wet muck made it almost impossible to camp outside and the group had moved frequently across the country, hoping to find a warmer place. Having fussy goblins following around also did not help to lighten up the mood.

It was sometime near Easter, or perhaps it was Easter, as Dean had lost any sense of date when they had rented two rooms at an inn in a remote village, with warmer temperatures, that they happened to stumble by. Ted had performed some tricky transfiguration work to turn Dean's remaining wizard money into muggle money.

"So we are actually paying for this deplorable accommodation?" grunted Gornuk in disbelief. Most of his comments of late had circled around similar issues and Dean was now thoroughly annoyed by it.

_I want to strangle him._

That night Ted had volunteered to go and buy some food from the inn restaurant downstairs. Dean was propped on his bed, the first real bed he had felt in ages and his stomach grumbled in response to Ted's offer.

"I think that's a 'yes please'," said Dirk, smiling from his bed.

The two goblins had a room to themselves next door as they had practically threatened murder if they didn't get one.

Hoot who had disappeared for a few days, was now sitting on the windowsill and as Dean turned his gaze towards the owl he had suddenly remembered something which had been nagging him for a long time.

From his satchel, Dean fished out the photo and the newspaper which Hoot had given him. He placed the photo with the smiling couple aside and read the torn part of the newspaper. From the faded date printed at the bottom, Dean could tell that it was a local muggle newspaper which had been published some 37 years ago. Dean read the article, or rather part of the article, as the other bit had been torn away from it.

"…_a woman by the name of Fiona Carrophs was found dead…" _– Here the text had faded too much to be able to decipher – _"…husband Dean Smith and son Theodore Smith, who was a year old…denied any deductions from medical personnel that his wife had died of ill health…maintained that she was murdered by a wizard…and has to this end, been strongly advised to see a psychologist…"_

Dean could just imagine the headline, "Estranged husband claims magical murder".

"Do you mind if I had a read of that?"

Dean jumped, during the course of his deep thinking, Dirk Cresswell had crept up silently and was now reading over his shoulder. Dean handed the paper to him.

Dirk took the piece of shabby, yellow paper and sat down to read it.

"Well, what a coincidence, it's Theo Smith…always told me he was a muggle-born…" mumbled Dirk.

"What?" cried Dean, hurrying to where Dirk sat, "you know the guy?"

At that moment, Ted opened the door and two trays of food drifted in, both carrying dishes of pasta, one of the trays set itself on the table in front of Dean and Dirk, the other floated nearby Ted's head.

"I don't think Griphook and Gornuk would like this pasta," said Dirk.

"Well what do they like?" asked Ted with a hint of impatience.

"Dunno, probably some gourmet food with red wine," smirked Dirk.

"Oh good, I think this country inn would have some of that," said Ted sarcastically as he closed the door behind him.

They took a few bites of the rather bland pasta before Dirk explained, "Theodore Smith or Theo Smith as he liked to be called, was in my year at Hogwarts. We were both in Ravenclaw and he was the smartest kid in our year. He said he was a muggle-born," said Dirk, frowning at the article, "but this thing here doesn't seem to say so, unless of course it's another Theodore."

At this point, Ted returned, sat opposite them, and began eating his pasta.

"What's that you got there, Dirk?"

The bit of newspaper was handed around.

After reading it, Ted looked a bit suspicious, "Your owl has a taste for news."

Dean smiled meekly.

"Know something of the Carrophs, Ted?" asked Dirk.

"Not much, other than they're brilliant wizards. Had no idea Fiona Carrophs had a son."

"Didn't know Theo had a mother either," said Dirk, "well, a mother that knew magic."

"The Carrophs I think," said Ted, "aren't one of those big, old wizarding families, haven't been around that long, but there are some quite famous witches and wizards who carry that name." Dirk nodded after Ted's comment.

"Tell me more about Theodore Smith," urged Dean to Dirk.

"Well," began Dirk, swallowing his pasta, "he had a thirst for magical knowledge and I think it was because of his muggle background. He was interested in the very essence of magic, you know, how people actually end up with it and how it originated. He liked _ancient magic_," said Dirk, as if coming to a conclusion. "I don't think Hogwarts ever satisfied his interests, he was excellent in his studies nonetheless, of course. After he graduated he became an unspeakable."

"A what?" asked Dean.

"An unspeakable. Person who works at the Department of Mysteries. They're not meant to tell people what they do at work, but I guess it's something aligned with Theo's interests."

"Were you good friends with him?" Dean wondered aloud as he finished the last of his pasta.

"He wasn't a really open sort of person, I was his roommate and was in most of his classes, so he probably had to talk to me," chuckled Dirk, "He was very modest, kinda likeable if you have the chance to know him better. I think he used to hang around his friend, Otus Birman, they were often together, very close friends…he was a peculiar fellow…"

"Who? Otus?" asked Dean who could hear the peculiarity from his name.

"Yeah. Huge eyes, messy hair - always at least two tufts sticking up - You know what?" said Dirk looking thoughtful, "He kinda reminded me of –"

The conversation was broken by a soft whistling noise issued by Dean's sneakoscope which had been tipped out of his bag when he had been rummaging for the newspaper.

Ted had stopped eating and Dirk had stood up, "Quick! We have to get out of here!" Dirk raced to the other room to alert the goblins as Dean packed his belongings, while the sneakoscope suddenly turned into a siren.

Dirk came back, carrying two goblins in his arms, who looked as if they have been robbed of all pride and set them down on the ground. Though he had only ran a few metres he looked breathless and informed Dean and Ted in pants that, "They've placed an Anti-Dissapparition jinx on the place."

With this the Sneakoscope began screaming its head off and underneath the whirring and the sirens were heavy footsteps climbing up the stairs.

"Is there anything we can do?" asked Ted, just before the door was flung open.

"No," said the wizard who had just burst through the door, flanked by two others on either side.

"Dawlish?" said Dirk, who sounded genuinely surprised.

"Didn't think you'd see me soon, did you Cresswell?"

"No, I didn't think they'd still hire you after Azkaban."

Dawlish's eyes darkened, "I see you've brought some friends," he said as he approached Griphook and looked as if he was about to knock him unconscious.

"_Stupefy!_" yelled Ted, but one of the Aurors had foreseen his spell and cried, "_Finite!"_ The jet of red light faded and at once the two began duelling, their wands waved and flickered in swift movements as jets of light streaked across the room.

Dawlish was now duelling with Dirk which left one Auror, who was making his way towards Dean. Dean had his wand ready, but as he prepared to cast a Leg-Locker Curse, a burst of green light flooded the room from one of the Aurors and hit Gornuk square on the chest. Griphook cried out and Dirk yelled, "NO!" At this momentary distraction, Dawlish performed the Cruciatus Curse on Dirk who fell and writhed in agony on the floor.

Dean automatically pointed his wand at Dawlish, whose ears immediately began swelling to the size of bats with wings that began attacking his face.

_So I have learnt something from my relationship with Ginny after all._

"Goodness, what _is_ that?" exclaimed the Auror who had been approaching Dean.

Exploiting the distraction, Dean pointed his wand at the Auror and said the first thing that came to mind, "_Tarantallegra!"_

The Auror began to do a dance on the spot as he furiously tried to cast spells with terrible aim while his legs twirled about.

"_Crucio!"_ yelled Dawlish again, who was managing good, despite the bat-bogey hex. Dirk yelled in pain and his wand fell out of his hand and rolled onto the floor. Ted, whose opponent was now lying unconscious on the floor, moved towards Dirk. However, as Ted edged closer, one of the flying spells cast from the dancing Auror, a jet of green light, was hurling towards Ted.

"NOOOOOO!!!_ PROTEGO!_" yelled Dean across the room. His shield charm was able to envelope Ted just in time, but wavered and disappeared after the curse hit it.

Ted stunned Dawlish and began duelling with the Auror whose dancing legs had stopped. Dirk also got up from the ground and picked up his wand, barely able to stay standing, he began duelling with Ted. They were forcing the Auror out and down the stairs. Dean was about to follow them, when he noticed Griphook who had been stunned and was lying unconscious on the floor. Dean gingerly picked the goblin up and was about to head down when two new Aurors appeared at the door.

Dean's eyes widened in terror as his grip on his wand tightened.

One of them laughed.

"Your friends have just been joined by a party of Aurors downstairs."

Dean could hear a yell from Ted downstairs, "DEAN TAKE GRIPHOOK AND GO!"

Both the men, upon hearing this, lunged at Dean and as their robes flew back, Dean caught site of a skull tattoo, which both men carried on one of their arms; the Dark Mark, which the _Quibbler_ had taught Dean to recognise.

'_So Death Eaters are now __Aurors?'_ thought Dean, who had previously considered a career as an Auror.

Immediately Dean dug in his satchel for the Instant Darkness Powder, dropping Griphook in the process, who landed with a thud on the floor.

_Ouch, sorry Griphook._

With the bottle in his hand now, he threw it in the air. The Death Eaters backed away, slightly wary, and Dean with his wand, pointed at the bottle and yelled, "_Confringo!"_ The bottle exploded in the air and the room instantly succumbed to a thick blackness.

Dean groped on the floor for Griphook, and when he caught the goblin's arm, he hoisted him up, carrying him over his shoulder. He pointed his wand in any direction and said, "_Deprimo!"_

The whole inn shook and bricks tumbled away, soon Dean felt the cool breeze of the night meet his face.

"Quick! He's getting away!" cried one of the Death Eaters, trapped in the darkness.

"_Accio Broom!"_

Enthusiastic as ever, the broom flew straight between Dean's legs so that he was effectively already on it. As he bent down to prop Griphook in front of him, his feet brushed against Ted's wireless on the floor. Dean hastily picked it up and slipped it in his satchel. He then motioned his broom to fly towards the welcoming breeze and out into the night.

-

It was hard to stop Griphook from slipping off the broom as they flew at high speed away from the inn.

"Griphook?" cried Dean as the air roared past him, "Griphook, are you alright?"

The blast of cool air seemed to have awakened Griphook, Dean felt his head nod slightly and could hear a grunt.

_Good._

After a while Dean felt the goblin's body grow rigid against his own.

"Stop," wheezed Griphook.

Dean obliged and they landed at the edge of a thick forest. He proceeded to carry Griphook, but Griphook placed a hand on Dean's arm, "No, I would like to walk please."

Dean nodded, picking up his broom and headed into the forest, Griphook slightly staggering behind.

-

Both were extremely tired as they entered the forest to find a comfortable, safe place to sleep. No conversations were exchanged and it seemed that the second after Dean closed his eyes, sunlight, which had pierced through the canopy of the trees, forced Dean's eyes to open. Only his body, which ached from sleeping on the hard dirt surface, showed any signs that he had actually slept all night.

Griphook who was sleeping a metre away from him had the comfort of the layer of soft fungi which grew on that spot beneath the goblin, that Dean had advised him to sleep on, in his weak state.

Dean took his wand out from his satchel and waved it around him to reinforce the protective charms he had placed about the tree which they were sleeping at. He then got up from his spot, legs aching, and swung the satchel over him, walking away to find them some breakfast.

As he started his trek, a familiar hoot echoed through the forest.

"Hoot?"

The long-eared owl swooped and dropped a soft bundle into Dean's hands.

"What's this?" asked Dean, as he held the clumsily-wrapped package and Hoot stood on Dean's shoulder. When the bundle was unwrapped, a woolen hat unfurled and a piece of paper rolled out:

"_With love, from mum."_

"You went back to my house?" asked Dean, surprised.

Hoot nodded as if to say, "Aye, and they were all safe."

Dean pulled the woolen hat over his head, it was soft and warm and he could picture his mum knitting it by the fire.

_Thanks mum._

-

That night the light of the dancing fire flickered across their faces as they ate their dinner, the same berries which Dean had picked that morning. Griphook had slept through most of the day and the two had hardly shared a word.

"I'm sorry that I didn't bring Gornuk's body back."

"A goblin corpse would have hardly been useful," said Griphook matter-of-factly, "and many goblins have died in the past because of wizard wars, we are used to it," he finished, again with the inhumane indifference, but nonetheless with a sting that made Dean feel guilty.

After they finished dinner, Dean took Ted's wireless out of his bag, turning the dials and saying "Albus" until he finally reached the station.

" - But before we hear from Royal and Romulus, let's take a moment to report those deaths that the _Wizarding Wireless Network News _and the _Daily Prophet_ don't think important enough to mention," said the voice of River, which Dean had recognized as Lee Jordan's. He set the wireless on the grass beside him and Griphook.

"It is with great regret that we inform our listeners of the murders of Ted Tonks and Dirk Cresswell."

Dean's breathing stopped for a moment, a chilling silence settled and the atmosphere suddenly became very oppressive, like a weight on his shoulders.

_No, this could not have happened. THIS COULD NOT HAVE HAPPENED._

"A goblin by the name of Gornuk was also killed. It is believed that muggle-born Dean Thomas and a second goblin, both believed to have been traveling with Tonks, Cresswell and Gornuk, may have escaped. If Dean is listening, or if anyone has any knowledge of his whereabouts, his parents and sisters are desperate for news."

Dean tore a piece of parchment, from the roll in his bag and with his quill, wrote rather shakily,

"_Do not worry, I am safe – your son."_

"Hoot!" he cried rather menacingly.

The owl flew down from the branch it was perched on. Dean thrust the piece of parchment towards Hoot, without looking at him. "Take it to my mum's" he ordered. The owl clutched the parchment with the claws of his feet and flew off into the dark night.

"…join us in a minute's silence in memory of Ted Tonks, Dirk Cresswell, Bathilda Bagshot, Gornuk and the unnamed, but no less regretted, Muggles murdered by the Death Eaters."

Dean flicked off the wireless rather furiously. Up till now he had not thought about Dirk and Ted, but he would never have imagined the possibility that they would be dead. It sounded odd, dreamlike. Dean had never known anyone close who had died in his lifetime, he had never encountered death himself, he had never cried over someone else's death, in a way it was like death didn't exist. There was no such thing. You could be on the run from ministry officials, Death Eaters, and Dementors, but death? No, he refused to believe it. How could anyone die, just like that?

_No. Can't. Won't. Never._

The words repeated themselves in Dean's head, the only acceptable, respectable, pathetic outlet he had was a deep sigh, as he buried his head in his hands, but this did not lessen the anger in him.

_I've taken life for granted, haven't I? Been lulled in a false sense of security…_

"Dean Thomas!" came the stained voice of Griphook, closely followed by the whirring of his Sneakoscope.

Dean looked up from his misery, in the darkness of the night, and no doubt, a silencing charm, he had not noticed the group of Snatchers who had the two surrounded.

"What did I tell ya, Scabior? Said I'd heard someone talking," said a raspy voice, belonging to a man with sharp teeth, matted grey hair and long, yellow fingernails.

Dean groaned inwardly, of all the things, he had forgotten to place a silencing charm over them and the stupid wireless had given them away.


	11. Malfoy Manor

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, I only own a few characters and bits of the plot. There are also direct quotations taken out of the book which I might have shortened but essentially they mean the same thing.**

**Thanks for putting up with my late updates, school's just started so I've been a bit busy, and thanks for all the reviews! I really appreciate them.**

**Chapter 11 – Malfoy Manor**

Each of the Snatchers attacked the shield simultaneously, it flickered and wasted away.

The man named Scabior picked up the goblin, Griphook winced, "Camping with a goblin, eh? Might throw him in as well, you never know, might be worth somethin', whaddya say, Greyback?"

"Yeah, what the heck, but I'm telling ya, goblins aren't my favourite food," he chuckled.

Dean recoiled in disgust, '_Does this guy eat goblins?_'

"I have to say, Scabior, been a while since I've found a young one, this one might be a bit too old though," said Greyback squinting at Dean.

"_Incarcerous!"_ said Scabior, and thick ropes appeared in thin air, binding the goblin tightly, after that, the man dropped Griphook onto the floor.

"Let him go!" cried Dean, "He's a goblin, and you don't have any use for him!"

"I'll be the judge of that, thanks," said Greyback, sending a blow to Dean's stomach.

Dean fell back, his stomach threatening to throw up the berries he just ate, as he recoiled in pain.

"Alright," said Scabior, walking over to Dean. He wrenched the wand out of Dean's hand, and picked up the satchel from the ground, handing both to another figure behind him, "check them out, see if there's anything worth lookin' at." The man obliged.

"So, what's your name, lanky?" growled Greyback, holding a tuft of Dean's hair.

"Lee Jordan," said Dean.

"And what's your blood status?"

"Half-blood."

"Check that Scabior."

"Wait," said the Snatcher behind them, "It's got 'Dean Thomas' written on his bag."

_Remind me never to label my belongings again._

"Dean Thomas, eh?" said Scabior, looking down a list, "You're one of the muggle-borns the ministry's looking for!"

_No way! Like I didn't know that._

"Ha ha," said Greyback, clapping his hands together, "this is turning out to be a pretty good catch!"

"There's nothing much interesting in the bag," continued the man, "'Cept for this Sneakoscope," he said, as he pulled out the blaring thing and blasted it with his wand so that the noise stopped, "and whoa! What an ugly hat."

"Get your filthy hands off my stuff!" yelled Dean.

He was greeted by a punch in the face.

"Next time think before you say, stupid mudblood," snarled Greyback.

"Dump the bag with the boy and we'll tie them up," ordered Scabior.

Dean's face hurt, but he was glad that they at least did not discover the key, which had been in Dean's jean pocket ever since he left the Hog's Head.

They dumped Dean beside Griphook, as well as Dean's bag which was then tied tightly squashed against his chest. The goblin and Dean were then bound together so that Dean was in a sitting position, and Griphook was forced to stand, his balance ensured by the ropes.

As Dean looked up to his captors he saw a wide, devilish grin spread on Scabior's face.

"Did you hear _that_?" he asked.

"We're on a roll tonight," said Greyback, rubbing his hands.

-

A moment later they had apparated outside a tent, with no lights on in the inside.

"Come out of there with your hands up! We know you're in there! You've got half a dozen wands pointing at you and we don't care who we curse!" cried Greyback into the darkness, as the Snatchers entered the tent.

Three bodies were dragged from the tent, one whose face had been horribly stung, and the other two, Dean could only see their legs because he was facing the wrong way and was already straining to see.

Men were directed to search the tent and there was the unmistakable sound of chairs upturning and other furniture being pushed out of the way.

"Now, let's see who we've got," said Greyback, "I'll be needing Butterbeer to wash this one down. What happened to you, ugly?" Dean although could not turn his head right around knew that Greyback was referring to the swollen-faced boy.

"Stung," the boy muttered, "Been stung."

The voice was slightly muffled but Dean had a feeling he had heard it somewhere before.

"Yeah, looks like it," said another voice.

"What's your name," snarled Greyback.

"Dudley."

"And your first name?"

"I -Vernon. Vernon Dudley."

Greyback then began questioning the other two, while Griphook gave a quiet murmur of pain and Dean tried to loosen the ropes around them a bit by moving and twisting.

There was quite a bit of movement as the three were dragged into sitting positions and tied to Dean and Griphook.

"Anyone still got a wand?"

"No," said the voices of Ron and Hermione, on either side of Dean, startling him.

'_Don't be stupid, I suppose a lot of people sound similar,' _thought Dean.

"This is all my fault. I said the name, I'm sorry –"

"_Harry?"_

"_Dean?"_

"It _is _you!" cried Dean in a whisper, heart sinking, "If they find out who they've got -! They're Snatchers, they're only looking for truants to sell for gold –"

"There's no Vernon Dudley on 'ere, Greyback." As soon as Scabior's message was delivered, an oppressive silence settled on the rope-bounded group. Dean could sense that Ron had stopped breathing and he could practically hear Hermione's heart leaping out on his right.

"Interesting," said Greyback, "that's interesting."

He crouched down beside Harry and when he next spoke, his breath, with the scent of blood in it, made everyone flinch in disgust.

"So you aren't wanted the, Vernon? Or are you on that list under a different name? What house were you in at Hogwarts?"

"Slytherin," same the automatic reply.

'_I hope you'll be able to pull this off, Harry,' _thought Dean.

"Funny 'ow they all thinks we wants to 'ear that. But none of 'em can tell us where the common room is," jeered Scabior.

"It's in the dungeons. You enter through the wall. It's full of skulls and stuff and it's under the lake, so the light's all green."

There was a short pause.

"Well, well, looks like we really 'ave caught a little Slytherin," said Scabior. Ron, Hermione and Dean simultaneously breathed sighs of relief.

Harry began spinning more lies as the Snatchers asked more questions, it seemed they could possibly still get out of this by sheer luck, but then it all came tumbling down, as good things do.

"'Ang on a minute, Greyback! Look at this, in the _Prophet_!" exclaimed Scabior, "'Ermione Granger, the Mudblood who is known to be traveling with 'Arry Potter."

They could hear Greyback's boots crunch the earth beneath him as he moved and crouched down beside Hermione. "You know what, little girly? This picture looks a hell of a lot like you."

"It isn't! It isn't me!" she squeaked.

And Dean knew they were done for.

It took seconds to deduce that the swollen boy was in fact Harry, his scar just visible on his deformed face. Glasses were found in the tent.

"…they say he's using the Malfoy's place as a base. We'll take the boy there."

-

Dean was tired, his face and stomach were bruised coupled with Ted's, Dirk's and Gornuk's deaths and the possibility that they were also about to die, made for an extremely bad night, which was a complete understatement. As the prisoners were dragged up the driveway of the Malfoy Manor and as the gravel rubbed and tore Dean's pants, he wondered, with miserable curiosity, what his family was doing and if he'd ever see them again.

"_As far as I'm concerned we're dead,"_ came Aberforth's useful comment, somewhere within the depths of Dean's memory.

Light suddenly spilled over them and it took a while for Dean's eyes to adjust. They were in a wide drawing room. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, dazzling the prisoners below and the dark purple walls were festooned with golden-framed portraits. Two figures rose from plush armchairs in front of an elaborate marble fireplace, as the prisoners and Snatchers spilled into the room.

"What is this?" said the voice of the man whom Dean assumed to be Draco's father.

"They say they've got Potter," replied a cool, woman's voice, _Draco's mother perhaps?_

"Draco, come here."

Her son obeyed and was forced to inspect Harry.

"Well?" demanded Greyback and Draco's father, "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"

'_The man sounds ecstatic,'_ thought Dean.

Another person had entered the room. She was tall, thin-lipped, had long, dull black hair and her face seemed robbed of all flesh, leaving only a skull and skin stretched tautly across it. When she spoke her voice was harsh, high-pitched, and to Dean she sounded like a mad-woman.

"Potter?" she shrieked, almost breaking the glass, "Are you sure? Well, then, the Dark Lord must be informed at once!"

It was all revealed very soon, Dean saw the Dark Mark burned into the woman's flesh as she dragged back her left sleeve and prepared to summon her master. The Malfoys were Death Eaters. As a muggle, he'd never given much thought to his peers' parentage or family, especially in the wizard sense. As it turned out, this naïveté wasn't doing him any favours right now.

"I was about to call him!" cried Draco's dad, possibly prolonging their deaths. "_I_ shall summon him, Bella, Potter has been brought to my house, and it is therefore upon my authority –"

"Your authority!" sneered Bella, "You lost your authority when you lost your wand, Lucius! How dare you! Take your hands off me!"

The conflict was momentarily stopped when the woman called Bella saw the glint of Gryffindor's sword, which the Snatchers had brought along. The mood in the room seemed to have shifted, the jubilee in Bella's voice when she next spoke was replaced with anger and fear.

"STOP!" she screamed, "Do not touch it, we shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now!"

Several of the Snatchers were stunned as Bella tried to grab the sword off them.

"Where did you get this sword?" she whispered, gripping the sword and bearing down on Greyback, who had been forced in a kneeling position.

"How dare you?" Greyback snarled, "Release me, woman!"

"Where did you find this sword," she demanded in an even higher voice, "Snape sent it to my vault in Gringotts!"

Everything then slipped into place, "_So Harry had the real sword all along, while Snape had sent the fake one to this woman's vault at Gringotts,"_ thought Dean.

Greyback was released and the unconscious Snatchers were disposed of, Dean heard a quiet whimper from Griphook, whose eyelids fluttered. The goblin was obviously in a lot of pain.

"The prisoners must be placed in the cellar, while I think what to do!"

Draco's mother, initially against this woman giving orders, hesitated for a moment, then addressed Greyback, "Take these prisoners down to the cellar."

"Wait," interrupted Bella, "All except…except for the Mudblood."

Ron exploded with a string of self-sacrificial comments to spare Hermione, while Bella cut the ropes off Hermione and dragged her by the hair to the middle of the room.

The rest of them were then moved into a dark passageway and down a steep flight of stairs, pushed by an invisible but strong force emitted from Greyback's wand. The heavy door at the bottom of the steps was unlocked and they were thrust in a musty room, the door slammed shut and they were enveloped in complete darkness.

There was a terrible scream above them.

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!" bellowed Ron as he struggled against the ropes so that Dean and Harry staggered and the coarse ropes rubbed against the goblin's bruised body.

"Be quiet!" Harry said, "Shut up, Ron, we need to work out a way –"

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"

"We need a plan, stop yelling – we need to get these ropes off –"

"Harry?" came a whisper in the darkness, "Ron is that you?"

Dean's heavy eyelids were beginning to droop, his whole body ached from the punches and his bad sleep the night before and the room was getting stuffy, it was hard to breathe. But the voice sounded vaguely familiar…

Someone shuffled closer to them and Dean saw the outline of a shadow.

"Harry? Ron?"

"_Luna?_"

"Yes, it's me! Oh no, I didn't want you to be caught!"

"Luna, can you help us get these ropes off?" asked Harry.

"Oh, yes, I expect so…there's an old nail we use if we need to break anything…just a moment…"

There was another scream from overhead.

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"

"Mr Ollivander?" said Luna, her voice calm and serene even in the worst of situations, "Mr Ollivander, have you got the nail? If you just move over a little bit…I think it was beside the water jug…"

Dean felt the ropes move as Luna tried to cut the fibres and loosen the knots.

_This could take a while._

"You'll need to stay still."

"Where did you get this sword?" screeched Bella above, "_Where?_"

There were some inaudible words, and Hermione screamed again.

"Ron, please stay still! I can't see what I'm doing –"

"My pocket!" said Ron, "In my pocket, there's a Deluminator, and it's full of light!"

Dean was about to drift into unconsciousness when the cellar was suddenly ablaze with luminescent spheres which hung in the air like tiny suns. He was able to see the white face of Luna and the figure of Ollivander the wandmaker, curled up in the corner.

"Oh that's much easier, thanks Ron," said Luna, and she continued striking the ropes with her nail, "Hello, Dean!"

Dean's reply was barely audible underneath the shrieks of Bella's and Hermione's screams.

"HERMIONE!"

'_If I ever get out of this alive, I promise I will do justice to everyone who has died because of this,'_ thought Dean.

"There!"

The ropes dropped away and Dean caught Griphook's falling body just in time to soften his fall.

"Thanks," Dean said to Luna in a shaky voice as Griphook sank to the floor, disorientated and exhausted.

"There's no way out, Ron," said Luna as Ron tried to dissapparate, "The cellar is completely escape-proof. I tried, at first. Mr Ollivander has been here for a long time, he's tried everything."

For a while Hermione's screams echoed throughout the whole house, Ron was half sobbing and banging the walls with his fist, and through a shard of mirror, whose sudden sparkling blueness caught Dean's attention, Dean was sure he had seen an eye which belonged to Aberforth.

"Help us!" Harry yelled in mad desperation to the eyes, "We're in the cellar of Malfoy Manor, help us!"

The eye was gone. Dean conjured a fleeting image of Aberforth starring at the mirror on his mantelpiece, somehow, he felt the two were connected.

"How did you get into my vault?" yelled Bella, the rest of her words obscured by Ron's sobs.

"…it isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!" came Hermione's weeping voice.

"A copy? Oh, a likely story," screeched Bella.

"…fetch the goblin," came Lucius Malfoy's voice, "he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!"

"Griphook," Harry whispered to the goblin curled up on the floor, "you must tell them that sword's a fake, they mustn't know it's the real one, Griphook, please –"

Footsteps scuttled down the cellar stairs, Ron clicked the Deluminator and they were once again shrouded in darkness. The lock clicked and the door flew open, Draco marched inside, wand held high and seized the goblin by the arm, dragging it behind him. The door slammed shut, simultaneously a loud crack echoed in the cellar. Someone had just apparated.

Ron clicked the Deluminator.

A house elf stood in their midst, trembling, his large tennis-ball shaped eyes focused on Harry. Above them Hermione's screams continued as Bella relentlessly interrogated her.

"…Dobby, I want you to grab Luna, Dean and Mr Ollivander, and take them – take them to –"

"Bill and Fleur's," said Ron, "Shell Cottage, on the outskirts of Tinworth!"

The elf nodded.

"And then come back. Can you do that Dobby?" Harry asked.

"Of course, Harry Potter," whispered Dobby. He hurried to Mr Ollivander's side, took one his hands in his own and offered his other to Luna and Dean. Neither of the two moved.

"Harry, we want to help you!" Luna whispered.

"We can't leave you here," said Dean.

"Go, both of you! We'll see you at Bill and Fleur's."

When they both remained still, Harry, clearly exasperated said, "Go! Go! We'll follow, just go!"

Hesitantly, they held on to Dobby's hand and with a crack, the group of four were gone.

-

Dean found himself sprawled against the hard earth, he could smell the salty air and wondered if this was Shell Cottage. They were on a cliff which overlooked the sea, a whitewashed cottage stood nearby, its walls embedded with shells.

"Thanks," said Dean, before Dobby disapparated.

Luna was supporting Mr Ollivander in a sitting position. As Dean moved to help, two figures ran towards them from the cottage with their wands raised.

"Mr Ollivander?" said the man, clearly bewildered, and Dean saw that he had the same fiery red hair as the Weasleys.

"Oh, Mr Weasley, I'm Luna Lovegood, I was at your wedding," said Luna, "This is Dean and this is Mr Ollivander, we've just been saved by Dobby from the Malfoy Manor. Mr Ollivander is very unwell, do you mind if we could settle him down first?"

'_Smooth,' _thought Dean.

"Bill, vee vill 'ave to carry him een," came Fleur Delacour's slurred English, whom Dean recognized from the Triwizard Tournament.

Bill bent down and placed his hands gingerly underneath the man, lifting him up gently, then swiftly, he carried him towards the house.

"Ar' you two alright?" asked Fleur.

"Yes," said Luna, helping Dean up, "We are fine, Dean has a few bruises though."

As the three walked towards the cottage, another crack filled the air.

"It must be Harry!" said Luna.

The group had apparated further away from the cottage than Dean, Luna and Mr Ollivander had. As Luna and Dean ran towards Harry, they saw Ron running towards the cottage, Hermione in his arms. There was cry from where Dobby was standing, they could hear the strained voice of Harry.

"DOBBY! Dobby – no – HELP! HELP!"

From far away they could see Harry laying the elf down. When they reached him, the elf was dead, its motionless, glassy eyes, reflecting the stars of the night sky, the hilt of a silver knife protruding from his chest.

**Sorry that this chapter was mainly based around the book, I thought I'd have to write it so that the story flows a bit more smoothly.**


	12. Shell Cottage

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, I only own a few characters and bits of the plot. There are also direct quotations taken out of the book which I might have shortened but essentially they mean the same thing.**

**Sorry for the slow update, school is really hogging all my time.**

**Chapter 12 – Shell Cottage**

They stood around Harry and Dobby for a while, their silence seemingly making the waves thrash louder.

"Dobby…Dobby," Harry repeated.

After a while Harry seemed to realize the presence around him.

"Hermione," he said suddenly, "Where is she?"

"Ron's taken her inside," replied Bill, "She'll be alright."

Harry looked at Dobby's lifeless body, he stretched his hand out and pulled the knife out of the elf, then pulled off his own jacket and draped it over Dobby. Dean hesitated, then he stood forward, picked up the body of the limp goblin, Griphook, and proceeded to carry him to the cottage, Fleur followed them.

"You ar' Dean Thomas, zee muggle-born, no?"

"Yes, yes I'm Dean Thomas," he said as they entered the cottage and Fleur directed them upstairs to a room with two beds, one of them which was being used by Ollivander. Dean placed the goblin carefully in the bed next to the window and Fleur disappeared downstairs to get some Skele-Gro.

"Thank you," came the wheezy voice of the goblin, it was more of a thank you of duty rather than of gratitude, nonetheless, in all the time Dean had spent with Griphook, this was the first relatively praiseworthy comment he had heard from the goblin, and he wondered how much he had done to earn it.

"Your welcome," whispered Dean, as he tiptoed towards the door.

Dean exited the room and met Ron who had left Hermione in the room next to Griphook's. They looked glumly at each other and the two walked wordlessly downstairs. Fleur had the jar of Skele-Gro in her hands and was possibly looking for more medicine while Luna was carrying a jug and two cups of water to take upstairs for Griphook and Ollivander.

"Harry's in the garden, he's burying Dobby," said Luna to Ron and Dean.

"If you vant to 'elp, zer ar' two spades leaning against zee house, if you go through zee back door, you vill see dem," said Fleur, behind Luna.

The two exited through the back door and picked up their spades, they walked towards Harry, who was digging relentlessly at a patch of ground between two bushes, welcoming the physical labour.

"How's Hermione?" he asked.

"Better," said Ron, "Fleur's looking after her."

Automatically, Ron and Dean stepped into the hole and began digging too, working in silence until the hole was big enough.

Harry wrapped his jacket around Dobby more snuggly, after a moment, Ron sat on the edge of the grave, took off his socks and shoes and slipped them on Dobby. Out of his bag, Dean pulled the woolen hat his mother had knitted and Harry placed it on Dobby's head.

The others had assembled around them now, Bill in his traveling cloak, Fleur with her apron and the Skele-Gro in the pocket, Hermione wrapped in a borrowed dressing gown and Luna who was draped in one of Fleur's coats.

"We should close his eyes."

Luna bent down, placing her fingers lightly on the elf's eyelids, and sliding it down his eyes so that his shiny eyes would be concealed forever.

"There. Now he could be sleeping," she said softly.

Harry placed the elf inside the grave, and stepped inside too, gazing at Dobby for the last time.

Then Luna piped in, "I think we ought to say something. I'll go first, shall I?"

She stopped beside the grave and addressed to the sleeping elf, "Thank you so much, Dobby, for rescuing me from that cellar. It's so unfair that you had to die, when you were so good and brave. I'll always remember what you did for us. I hope you're happy now."

Ron cleared his thick throat, "Yeah…thanks Dobby."

"Thanks," Dean whispered as Luna's words still echoed in his ears.

"Goodbye Dobby," said Harry. Bill raised his wand and the pile of earth rose up into the air and fell gently over the elf, till there was a small mound where the grave was.

"D'you mind if I stay here for a moment?" asked Harry.

Fleur and Bill murmured replies, Luna smiled sadly and Ron and Hermione exchanged worrying looks. The group walked back to the cottage, leaving Harry with the free elf.

Dean walked numbly with the others. When he realised Voldemort was taking over the wizarding world he didn't imagine himself grieving for dead people and creatures every other day. He didn't know that people would die who had saved him once or defended him before. He'd never imagine himself digging a grave, and yet all these things seemed to have happened within the last two days. It felt out of place that he was still alive, here where all these noble people like Ted Tonks and loyal creatures like Dobby were dead, and Dean, who had never saved anyone in his life was still allowed to breathe and eat and sleep, while others like Dobby would never be able to see the world again.

They sat in the living room, crowded around the fire, Bill had been explaining how Griphook and Ollivander were going to be moved to his great-aunt Muriel's house, when Harry came in and asked how they were protected.

"Fidelius Charm. Dad's Secret Keeper. And we've done it on this cottage too; I'm Secret Keeper here. None of us can go to work, but that's hardly the most important thing now. Once Ollivander and Griphook are well enough, we'll move them to Muriel's too…"

"No I need both of them here…"

Bits of conversation drifted in and out of Dean's ear, as he stared calmly into the fire, the dancing flames almost hypnotizing him, the heat, becoming so warm it was almost burning his face.

_You made me leave my school then you made me leave my family and you made me leave my friends, then you killed those who tried to help me. WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO? Life. Wasn't. Meant. To. Turn. Out. Like. This._

Somewhere in his memory he could hear Aberforth saying, _"Leave the country Dean, find somewhere safe and peaceful where there ain't any wizards and live a content muggle life, what's wrong with that?"_

_I DON'T WANT TO LIVE A CONTENT MUGGLE LIFE._

"Dean? Dean?" Luna shook his body slightly.

Dean ripped his eyes from the flames and turned away from the fire, he touched his face with his hands and felt the heat radiating off his cheeks.

"What?" he said rather menacingly, looking around to find that they were the only two in the room, "Where's everyone else?" he added, in a softer tone.

"Harry, Ron and Hermione have gone upstairs to talk to Griphook and Mr Ollivander. I think Fleur and Bill are upstairs too. Fleur left some water to boil to make tea, would you like to watch the kettle with me?"

"Oh – yeah," said Dean absentmindedly, as the two got up from the carpet and entered the kitchen. They took up two chairs from the small kitchen table, Dean's eyes wandered around, but he had the uncomfortable feeling that Luna was watching him. Once he glanced in her direction and to his dismay discovered that he was right. Luna's mouth curled up in a small, reassuring smile. Her blonde hair was loose and rather messy. There was no wand to stick behind her ear and there weren't any horse radish earrings or butterbeer cork necklaces, just a pale face looking back at him. He was surprised to find that Luna looked normal for once.

"So what – How long have you been locked in the Malfoy Manor?" asked Dean, trying to start some conversation and stopping the huge eyes from looking at him.

"Oh, since Christmas," said Luna crisply.

-

The days turned into weeks. Harry, Ron and Hermione were always upstairs in the room with Griphook, there was clearly something they were planning between the four of them. But if there was, the rest of the occupants didn't ask any questions. At least Dean was not perturbed by their constant absence, he was rather stuck in his own thoughts, and Luna, always serene and calm looked as if she didn't notice the difference.

With the three and Griphook locked up in the room all day, Dean found himself constantly with Luna. They would do the gardening together, collect the driftwood together, and only at dinner time did Harry, Hermione and Ron appear to set the table. Other than that, the only time Dean saw them was at bedtime, when the three boys shared the living room.

If Dean had any spare time to himself, which was usually in the evenings, he would go and sit on the rocks to stare down at the beach and do some sketching with a quilt which had a degree of difficulty. Sometimes, he would climb down the short cliff and take a stroll down the beach.

During their first week at Shell Cottage, Dean had sketched pictures of Dirk and Ted and even Gornuk, the grumpy goblin. He was now sitting on a flat rock, drawing a picture of Dobby, sketching his big glassy eyes.

"Ooooh," said Luna who had silently walked up to Dean, "It's beautiful."

"Thanks," said Dean, his hand momentarily stopping.

"Can you teach me how to draw?"

"You wanna learn how to draw?" asked Dean, a tad surprised.

"Yes," replied Luna, smiling at him.

After that, Dean began giving Luna drawing lessons during any spare time he had. Luna wasn't bad to start off with either. 

"I've drawn a bit at home, by myself," said Luna, in response to Dean's query.

Sometimes Luna would tell Dean about the many wild creatures she knew about. Dean had kindly declined, but that didn't stop Luna describing the winter diet of Nargles.

-

On a windy April day, Dean and Luna had gone to collect some driftwood in the small forest behind the cottage and on the outskirts of Tinsworth. Luna had delayed their task quite a bit when she began looking for signs of Crumple-horned Snorkacks.

"Come on Luna!" cried Dean, carrying a stack of driftwood under his arm, "We need to go before it rains," he said, looking warily at the dark sky.

It rained straight after the words came out of Dean's mouth.

"Oh great," he muttered, as the water soaked his clothes and stuck to his skin.

"Luna!" yelled Dean, over the pattering of the rain. He ran over to where she was still inspecting the tree roots of small, young tree and grabbed her fingers.

"Oh!" she cried as Dean yanked her away and they ran towards the cottage, their arms both full of driftwood.

"I'm sorry Dean, I was looking for a Crumple-horned Snorkack, you see. They have really big eyes and tiny little ears…"

They had just entered the cottage, and Dean, whose arm brushed against the pocket of his jeans, felt the absence of the outline of the key which he had kept in that pocket for safe-keeping.

_No, no. Where's the key?!?!?!?!?_

They passed Harry and emptied their driftwood into the fireplace, with Luna still talking.

"…and if you ever come to our house I'll be able to show you the horn…"

After placing the driftwood in the fireplace, Dean raced to the bathroom to wash his hands and then began searching widely in his pockets for it.

_Where is it? Where is it?_

Then Luna came in, "It's dinner now, Dean."

"Yeah – yeah, I know," said Dean, slightly cross.

They walked to the combined dining and living room, as Bill was just about to transport Mr Ollivander to his great-aunt's.

"I'm going to miss you, Mr Ollivander," said Luna, as she approached the man.

"And I you, my dear," said Ollivander.

They all said their goodbyes and the pair disappeared into the night to disapparate, Fleur closing the door behind them.

The rest of them sat down to dinner. Bill soon returned and they were packing away the dishes when Dean was astonished to see his old Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lupin drop by to announce the birth of his son whose mother was Tonks, the woman who, now Dean remembered, Ted had mentioned as his daughter, a clumsy metamorphagi.

Despite the happy news, Dean cleaned up after dinner in a rather glum mood.

"I'm sorry," said Luna, who was washing the dishes with him.

"What? – Oh, about the rain? No, it doesn't matter."

"I'm talking about the key," she continued, as if she didn't hear Dean, "The key you keep fingering, you've lost it haven't you? When we ran out of the woods?"

"Oh – I – yeah," Dean finished, "It's nothing special."

"You looked very worried when you were looking for it in the bathroom," said Luna serenely.

"Well – look, don't worry about it," said Dean, with a tone of finality.

-

Dean's eyes opened as the first lights of dawn streamed through the window. He had had another nightmare, had envisioned his parents dying, and although he had already woken up, he was still in aftershock, a part of him believed that his parents were truly dead. The other two were still sleeping beside him, Ron snoring softly, and Harry twisting and turning, as if he too was trapped in a nightmare.

Dean quietly got up, pulled his sweater over the pajamas Bill had lent him, and decided to take a morning stroll.

Outside it was sunny but there was a chilly wind. Dean placed his hands in the pocket of his sweater, and began walking subconsciously towards the forest. For the past few days he had been waiting for mail from Hoot, but the owl never came and it became another thing to worry about.

_What if something happened to my family, or if Hoot never found them?_

So lost was he in his thoughts that he didn't notice the blonde girl running towards him.

"Good morning Dean!" said Luna happily, as she slid something gold and shiny into Dean's hand.

"Wha – How?" was all Dean could say as he stared at the key in his hand.

"I woke up early this morning to look for it," replied Luna.

Dean was suddenly overwhelmed with a surge of gratitude, "Thanks, you…you really shouldn't have."

"Oh no, I think so. You looked very sad when you didn't have it."

"Well, thank you anyway," said Dean, smiling at Luna.

-

With the key back now, Dean seemed more determined than ever to find out who had left him the key and who had protected Dean all this time. He remembered his last conversation with Dirk and Ted and dug around his bag for the photo and the newspaper article. As he sat there on the flat rock overlooking the sea, he wrote three names down on the piece of parchment before him.

_Fiona Carrophs_

_Dean Smith_

_Theodore Smith_

Could it be that his owl had randomly picked up this rubbish? Or was everything more intricately linked than Dean thought it was? And was it a coincidence that Dean had ran into Dirk Cresswell, the man who was able to tell Dean everything about Theodore Smith? In a way it almost felt like a set up.

His heart suddenly quickened his pace, Dean's mind had spat out a random memory as he sat there pondering the three names.

"_Anagrams can be completely irrelative to the original word in meaning, but are essentially born from the same letters, and can sometimes make very strong disguises which when uncovered seem blatantly obvious."_

His hand raced across the page as he wrote down his father's name, while crossing out letters from the three names of the Smith family.

He ended up crossing all of the letters in Carrophs, Smith and Theo and the conclusions almost leapt up at him after being dormant for so long.

His father's real name had been Theodore Smith.

Christopher Thomas was an anagram of his mother's maiden name, his original surname, and his own nickname.

Dean Thomas was not a muggle-born.

-

**Well there you go, yes I suppose it **_**was**_** kinda sus, but there's more where that came from…hehe…**


	13. Theodore Smith

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, I only own a few characters and bits of the plot. There are also direct quotations taken out of the book which I might have shortened but essentially they mean the same thing.**

**Chapter 13 – Theodore Smith**

It was too fitting to be a mere coincidence. The fact that Christopher Thomas was Theodore Smith could be the answer to everything. Who else could have given Hoot the photo and the newspaper to deliver to Dean, so that he could find out about the truth? Who else would have followed Dean to protect him from the Dementors and Death Eaters, and protect his family? The date on the newspaper seemed plausible enough, it was very possible that Dean's father was this man. And Theodore Smith or Christopher Thomas had named his own son after his father, Dean Smith.

Though Dean was tempted to believe that his dad was here, possibly closer to him than he had ever been in Dean's life, maybe even watching him right now, there were still some questions that troubled him. Firstly, Dean had always thought his father was dead, he had thought that that was the only reason why he had never returned to seek his son and wife. If his father was still alive and protecting Dean, then why didn't he just confront Dean and tell him everything? Why did he leave in the first place? And why was he, if it was him, telling Dean about himself now? As well as that, there was the question of the woman was who had fought the ministry official and what the golden key was for. Dean's head filled with more questions. The answer he had in front of him had prompted even more questions.

"Hello Dean," whispered Luna, who had crept up behind him.

The sudden noise made Dean jump.

"Luna," said Dean, spinning around to face her, "Don't you ever make any sounds when you walk?"

"Oh I couldn't find my shoes this morning," said Luna gleefully and Dean looked down at her bare feet, "It's dinner time now," she added.

"Yeah, ok, just let me pack my stuff –"

"Oh, what's that?" asked Luna, picking up the photo of Fiona Carrophs.

"Uh…that's a picture of…" and the excitement of the revelation overtook Dean as he explained everything to Luna.

She nodded, listened quietly and didn't ask any questions until Dean finished.

"Wow, and you think this is all a setup? That someone's been planning this all along and that's why you met Dirk Cresswell who told you all about Theodore Smith?" asked Luna mildly, "That is very interesting."

"And now, well I don't know what to believe."

"Well, maybe we can think about this together, two heads is better then one."

"You know what Luna? I think that's a good idea," replied Dean, "But we better go to dinner first."

"Yes," said Luna, "Did I forget to tell you that it was dinner time?"

After placing everything in his bag, Dean slipped off his rock and began to walk back to the cottage.

"Ouch!" said Luna suddenly.

"What is it?" asked Dean.

"I think a Wrackspurt bit me on the foot!" she said, pointing at her bleeding foot.

'_More likely you stood on something sharp,' _thought Dean.

"Hang on," said Dean, "Put your hand on my shoulder, we better check your foot first."

Luna placed her hand lightly on Dean's shoulder as Dean bent down and picked up her foot.

"You're not ticklish are you?" he asked.

"Actually," giggled Luna, "I am very ticklish, but I'll try not to laugh."

The left side of her foot had been pierced deeply by something sharp and was bleeding non-stop, the blood had already been smeared over half of her foot.

"Er," said Dean, "I think you had better avoid walking, there are only a few more metres till the cottage, why don't you let me carry you?"

"Yes alright," she said, with some effort to suppress her laughter.

Dean turned around, Luna's face was screwed up, her mouth squeezed shut and she looked as if she had just eaten a slug. Dean began laughing and at once Luna couldn't stop.

"I'm s-s-s-sorry," she said through bouts of laughter, "I'm very ticklish."

"Okay Luna, put your arms around my neck," said Dean after he finished laughing. He bent down and felt Luna's arms curl around his neck, soft, gentle arms, arms that he hadn't expected and with a sudden jolt of realisation, arms that he had wanted to feel ever since he broke up with Ginny. Tentatively, he lifted Luna from the ground and as he did so, he felt Luna's face rest against his, so that they were touching cheek-to-cheek.

Luna sighed.

Dean hurried to the cottage. Once they entered he placed Luna onto the couch.

"Vat eez it?" asked Fleur who had hurried from the dining table, where she had sat with Bill.

"It's her foot, it's bleeding, and quite a lot."

Fleur took out her wand and tapped it gently on Luna's foot. It stopped bleeding immediately and began healing.

"Dere, dat should do eet," she said, before returning to the table.

"Sorry we're late for dinner," said Dean.

"Oh no, don't be," said Bill, "Ron and them haven't even come down yet."

Luna and Dean took their seats at the table side by side.

"Thank you for carrying me Dean," said Luna conversationally, "It reminded me of daddy carrying me when I was young."

"Oh, yeah, you're welcome," Dean mumbled.

"Speaking of which, do you know how your father is right now?" asked Bill, biting into a rather bloody piece of meat.

"I think daddy will be alright, we were planning to go to Poland to find some Blibbering Humdingers during the Summer holidays and he wouldn't miss anything for that," said Luna confidently.

-

Thankfully the nightmares left Dean alone for a night and he was able to sleep. The next morning he woke up later than usual and the living room was already deserted of the other inhabitants. Ron, Harry and Hermione had locked themselves in Griphook's room the moment they had woken up. It seemed like the importance of what they were discussing had increased threefold over the night. Luna was also busy, but she was busy testing her new wand which Ollivander had sent her.

"Ohhh, look!" she cried as she picked it up and blue sparks shot out of the tip.

"Yes – it's very nice," said Dean who missed his own wand which had been taken away by the Snatchers.

"Don't look so glum," said Luna, handing him her wand, "You can have a wave if you want."

"No – No thank you," Dean declined.

"Ok," she said, then her eyes lit up, "Come, Dean, I want to show you something, it will cheer you up."

She ran up the stairs and Dean followed, wondering if she was going to show him a Wrackspurt or something. But it turned out to be something completely different.

She held up a sketch that she had done – of Dean.

"It's beautiful," was the only thing Dean managed to say.

"I hope you like it," said Luna, and she placed the tip of her wand onto the sketch and at once colour spread from the point of contact so that the picture was now coloured in a way that brought it to life, like the Dean in the picture was a thinking, feeling being. Then Luna began to trace the outline of Dean with a golden line. When Dean walked closer, he realised that itwas actually a string of words saying, "friends, friends, friends, friends…"

"I paint pictures of all my friends," said Luna happily, "If you come to my house one day, I'll show you, and I'll stick this one up too." She held up the finished portrait to show Dean.

-

The next day Griphook, Harry, Hermione and Ron were nowhere to be found.

"Vere hav' zay gone?" asked Fleur crossly.

"My guess is they went to Gringotts," said Bill quietly.

They were eating dinner, the table was much less crowded and each of them was seated on one side.

"Zay VAT?" exploded Fleur, "But don't zay know dat it eez not safe?"

"I believe in Harry," said Luna simply as if she was listening to a different conversation.

When Fleur gave her a sharp look across the table, Dean quickly added, "Harry knows what he's doing, besides Griphook's with them right?"

"Exactly," said Bill rather worriedly.

Dean understood, he wouldn't exactly trust his life with Griphook either.

It was after dinner, when they were washing the dishes when Dean suddenly felt a warm sensation radiating from the back of his jeans. For one crazy moment, Dean thought someone had touched him, then he heard Luna cry, "Oh!" beside him, and she quickly dried her hands and took out a galleon from her pocket.

Then Dean realised.

He dried his hands too and fished out the galleon from his back jean pocket. It was warm in his hands and the message on the galleon made Dean's heart leap.

_Finally._

"Finally," whispered Luna next to him, "Neville's sent the message."

Both of them ran out of the kitchen to where Bill and Fleur were sitting huddled together in front of the fire. Both were reading books.

"Harry's returned to Hogwarts!" the words burst out of Dean's mouth.

"He what?" asked Bill, propping his book down.

"He's at Hogwarts and he wants us to fight!" cried Luna, as if her dream had come true.

"Now?" asked Fleur, as she stood up.

"Yes," said Dean, adrenaline pumping through his veins, "Neville sent us the message, we knew the moment Harry returned to Hogwarts, it would mean rebellion," he finished, looking at Luna, who nodded in support.

"But 'ow vill you get zere?" Fleur countered, "Der ar' Death Eaters zere."

"Neville knows a secret passageway through the Hog's Head, we're to apparate straight there so that none of the Death Eaters at Hogsmeade can catch us," explained Luna quickly, handing her galleon to Bill so that he could read the message.

"Well, this rebellion, wouldn't it mean that You-Know-Who's going to assemble his Death Eaters there?" asked Bill, flipping over the galleon, with a worried expression on his face.

"Vell, now zat 'Arry is zere, he vill definitely," said Fleur sourly.

"Then Harry's in a lot of danger right now," said Bill, handing the galleon back to Dean, "I think we better go and get Harry out of Hogwarts quick."

"No!" said Dean rather more forcefully than he intended, "I mean, no. Harry said Professor Dumbledore left him a job, well this might be it. If Harry's going to get rid of You-Know-Who then I'm going to be there and do whatever I can to help."

Dean now looked at Bill with an almost accusative glare, he knew that the members of the Order would be the last people to disregard Dumbledore's dying wish.

"I – well, I…I suppose I better contact the Order then, to help" said Bill.

"Vat?!" asked Fleur, unbelievably, as her husband gave in, "But Dean, you do not 'ave a vand!"

"That – that can be solved," mumbled Dean, who could find no solutions at all.

"Dean can share mine," said Luna, good-naturedly.

Fleur blinked.

"Alright you two," said Bill as he produced two silver wolves. For a moment their glowing silver coats enlivened the small cottage, and Fleur suddenly looked somewhat relaxed as the atmosphere changed spontaneously.

Bill caught Dean's curious expression and whispered in his ear, "They were wolves before I was bitten. Ahem," he said, now straightening up and turning to Luna as well, "if Harry wants you then you better be off, and be careful, we'll join you shortly. The Hog's Head, did you say?"

Dean and Luna nodded.

"Ok," he said, making a mental note and dispatching one of the wolves to his great aunt's and the other to Tonks and Lupin, "Fleur you better get ready too."

He was answered by the sound of footsteps stomping up the stairs.

Bill winked at them.

Dean and Luna ran out the door of the cottage and Luna's face shone in the moonlight as they stepped into the night air. Together the two ran till they passed the boundaries of the Fidelius Charm, then they both took each other's hand. Dean could hear Luna's voice softly counting, "One…two…three…" and the world swam around them.

It felt good to be returning to Hogwarts at last.


	14. Dumbledore's Pensieve

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, I only own a few characters and bits of the plot. There are also direct quotations taken out of the book which I might have shortened but essentially they mean the same thing.**

**A/N Thanks for all the reviews and sorry for the long update. I'm glad that everyone is charged for the battle and I hope I make it exciting enough…**

**Chapter 14 – Dumbledore's Pensieve**

Everything was just how Dan remembered it. The worn-out, thin carpet, the sagging couches, the dusty mantelpiece, the painting of the young girl and the mirror which stood alone on the mantel. It was the mirror Aberforth had often stared into. It was his eyes which were reflected in the shard of glass Harry had, then Dobby had come immediately after to save them...

"What? MORE?" came Aberforth's grumpy yelp as he walked out of his bedroom, "OUT!! OUT!!"

Dean turned to face the familiar voice, "But Abe, it's me Dean," he said, a little hurt by the hostility, "You can't send us out, please, Hogsmeade is full of Death Eaters right now!" he cried desperately.

"And what _about_ that? Huh?" said Aberforth, his piercing blue eyes surveying Dean over his glasses, "I'm not gonna send yer to Hogwarts. I'M NOT GONNA SEND ANYMORE PEOPLE TO THEIR DEATHS!!!"

"Abe, we want to help Harry," said Luna, "please let us through, please."

Aberforth sat down furiously, "This is all Al's fault, if he hadn't gotten yer to believe - if he hadn't died and made everyone think they had ter finish You Know Who for him -"

"THIS IS NOT JUST DUMBLEDORE," said Dean suddenly,"THIS IS DIRK AND TED. THIS IS GORNUK AND DOBBY. IF WE DON'T FIGHT HIM NOW, MORE PEOPLE WILL DIE AND NO ONE WILL BE SAFE. NOT EVEN MUGGLES," Dean added, emphasizing the last sentence.

A short silence followed. Dean, who still felt the rage roar in him turned away from the group calmly and stared through the window in a focused frenzy.

"And daddy too," said Luna's soft voice and it took a while for Dean to realise what Luna was talking about.

Aberforth sighed loudly in an almost painful way and appeared to gave a slight nod, the girl in the portrait smiled and suddenly it swung forward to reveal a hidden passageway.

"Oh thank you very much Abe," said Luna, beaming.

"Oh, by the way," began Dean, about to warn Aberforth about the others who were coming, then decided against it, "don't worry," and the two quickly scampered through the hole.

-

"What place is this?" asked Dean in awe as he climbed out of the passageway to emerge in a room where there were hammocks and bathrooms and most impressive of all, the house banners of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw hanging from balcony above their heads. Hogwarts students gathered together in the centre of the room, and there, in front of them, talking, was Harry.

"This is the Room of Requirement" said Luna proudly, "Neville got the idea. We've been using it for most of the year to continue Dumbledore's Army."

"Look," Harry was saying, before he noticed Dean and Luna crawl out of the passageway.

"We got your message, Neville! Hello you three, I thought you must be here!"

Before Dean could do anything else he was engulfed in a tight hug by Seamus, who had given a roar of delight when he saw Dean.

"Hi everyone!" said Luna cheerfully, "Oh, it's great to be back!"

"Luna," said Harry, with a mixed expression of annoyance and gratitude, "what are you doing here? How did you -?"

"I sent for her," said Neville, holding up the fake galleon.

Seamus released Dean, and for a moment he revelled in the sensation of being able to breathe again. Both of them turned around as more people climbed out of the hole in the wall. First was Ginny who was followed by Fred, George, Lee Jordan and Cho Chang. Dean could not help but catch the radiant smile Ginny had given Harry. Seamus noticed and patted him on the back.

"You miss her?" he asked.

"Actually, no," said Dean, giving his friend a reassuring smile, "But I would," he continued, grinning, "like another girlfriend," he finished and couldn't help glancing at Luna as he recalled the tingling sensation on his cheek where Luna had once touched with her own.

Dean shrugged.

"So what's the plan, Harry?" said George.

"There isn't one," replied Harry, who looked rather disorientated by the people around him and what they were saying.

"Just going to make it up as we go along, are we? My favourite kind," said Fred.

"You've got to stop this!" Harry told Neville. "What did you call them all back for? This is insane –"

"We're fighting, aren't we?" Dean asked, taking out his fake galleon, "The message said Harry was back, and we're going to fight! I'll have to get a wand, though -"

"You haven't got a _wand_ -?" began Seamus.

"Long story," whispered Dean, "I'll tell you later."

For a moment the room hushed as the three in the centre engaged in a whispered conversation. At the other end of the room, Fred and George were cracking jokes with the people around them.

"Ok," said Harry suddenly, and the room immediately fell silent, "There's something we need to find. Something – something that will help us overthrow You-Know-Who. It's here at Hogwarts, but we don't know where. It might have belonged to Ravenclaw. Has anyone heard of an object like that? Has anyone ever come across something with her eagle on it, for instance?"

Everyone listened to the conversation Harry began having with the Ravenclaws.

"Well, there's her lost diadem. I told you about it, remember, Harry? The lost diadem of Ravenclaw? Daddy's trying to duplicate it," said Luna.

However, as Michael Corner soon pointed out and Cho quickly added, the diadem had been lost for centuries, but it was finally decided that Luna should go up with Harry to the Ravenclaw common room, where Ravenclaw was wearing the diadem in her statue. The pair disappeared down a steep staircase which was hidden behind the cupboard in the corner of the room.

For a while the room was silent until Fred and George started cracking jokes again and a thick circle quickly accumulated around them. Then Ron and Hermione said something about a bathroom before quickly hurrying out as well.

"So," said Seamus, "care to tell me that long story of yours?"

They had been talking for twenty minutes, Seamus was debating whether Christopher Thomas and Theodore Smith could really be the same person.

"Okay, so they're anagrams, but what if it was just a coincidence? Besides wouldn't you're dad have told your mum about him being a wizard? And why would he dump you guys and disappear? And why would he need another name anyway? All this is kinda –"

Other people were climbing through the hole. Dean recognized his old professor, Lupin as well as most of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Bill and Fleur and two other adults Dean guessed were Mr and Mrs Weasley from their hair and the way they were talking to Bill.

At that point, Luna and Harry appeared from the stairs and the room was swallowed in a rush of excitement and fear.

"Harry, what's happening?" said Lupin, meeting him at the stairs.

"Voldemort's on his way, they're barricading the school – Snape's run for it –" Here there was a bit of cheering, "- What are you doing here? How did you know?"

"We sent messages to the rest of Dumbledore's Army," Fred explained. "You couldn't expect everyone to miss the fun, Harry, and the DA let the Order of the Phoenix know, and it all kind of snowballed."

"What first, Harry?" called George, asking Dean's question, "What's going on?"

"They're evacuating the younger kids and everyone's meeting in the Great Hall to get organized," said Harry, "We're fighting."

Many of the students began walking towards the foot of the stairs, wands poised, eager to fight. Seamus and Dean left their spots and also began following the flow.

"Too bad you haven't got a wand," said Seamus gloomily.

As they passed Harry, Dean held out his hand to Luna, "Come on, Luna." She took it and the two walked back up the stairs hand in hand.

-

The enchanted ceiling was dark and scattered with stars, some bright, some dim. On the four tables lined side by side in the hall sat students, some petrified, others dazed and some, their eyes gleaming, ready to fight. Professor McGonagall was running through the evacuation plan when she was suddenly interrupted by a high-pitched voice which echoed throughout the hall and seemed to be emitted from its very walls.

"I know that you are preparing to fight." Dean jumped, Luna, seated on the Ravenclaw table looked eerily calm, though she did turn her head a few times to find the source of the sound. Others in the room screamed and clutched each other. The voice continued, to Seamus' horror, who had gripped the table and mouthed the name, "Voldemort" to Dean.

"Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood."

There was a pause and silence spilled into the hall like a tidal wave, crushing everyone in the Hall, who seemed to breathe collectively.

"Give me Harry Potter," said Voldemort's voice, "and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded. You have until midnight."

Dean stood waiting, to see if anyone was crazy enough to suggest…

"But he's there! Potter's _there_! Someone grab him!" shrieked Pansy Parkinson from the Slytherin table.

At once the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs stood up against the Slytherins, like a barricade of people, wands drawn.

"Thank you, Miss Parkinson," said Professor McGonagall curtly, "You will leave the Hall first with Mr Filch. If the rest of your house could follow."

Dean smirked as the Slytherins filed out of the Hall. Many Ravenclaws remained behind, even more Hufflepuffs stayed and more than half of the Gryffindors remained in their seats as Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped forwards to address his fight plan.

"We've only got half an hour until midnight, so we need to act fast! A battle plan has been agreed between the teachers of Hogwarts and the Order of the Phoenix. Professor Flitwick, Sprout and McGonagall are going to take groups of fighters up to the three highest Towers – Ravenclaw, Astronomy and Gryffindor – where they'll have a good overview, excellent positions from which to work spells. Meanwhile, Remus," he indicated Lupin, "Arthur," he pointed towards Mr Weasley, sitting at the Gryffindor table, "and I will take groups into the grounds. We'll need somebody to organise defence of the entrances of the passageways into the school –"

" – sounds like a job for us," called Fred, referring to himself and Geroge and Kingsley nodded in approval.

"All right, leaders up here and we'll divide up the troops!"

As the students hurried past, some to go to the grounds and others to ascend to the towers, Dean spotted a familiar long-eared owl amongst the movement in the Hall.

"Hoot? Hoot?" Dean ran over to the fluttering owl and saw, to his delight, a letter attached to the owl's foot. He quickly detached it, then ran to the entrance hall and halfway up the stairs to avoid the rush of students, in his attempt he had lost Seamus. Dean eagerly unfolded the piece of paper, but was met with a disappointing message. The letter was not, as Dean presumed, from his mother. In the centre of the paper, in rushed handwriting, was the name 'Dumbledore'.

"What?" said Dean, a little too disappointed. "What does this mean?"

But Hoot had flown further off and turned around to squawk at Dean as if beckoning him to come with him.

Dean ended up climbing six flight of stairs non-stop and credited it to his competent physical skill. They reached the Seventh Floor which was so far empty, even the painting contained no people, they had obviously moved around the castle to avoid or watch the fight.

Hoot stopped outside a gargoyle statue which looked smugly at Dean.

"Well, what's the password boy?" said the wheezy voice of the statue impatiently.

"What? I – I…the password," mumbled Dean as he wondered why he was standing outside the headmaster's office.

"Yes the password," came the gargoyle's voice in an annoyed tone.

"I – Oh," said Dean as he realised the paper tucked in his hand, "Dumbledore."

The gargoyle suddenly leapt aside and the wall behind it split in two to reveal a spiral staircase which was slowly revolving upwards. Dean and Hoot quickly stepped onto the bottom step as the wall closed behind them. When the spiral staircase had stopped rotating, Dean found himself facing a polished oak door with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin.

Dean tentatively knocked on the door as Hoot seemed over-enthusiastic to make sure he did so. When no one answered for a long time, Dean opened the door quietly and stepped into the empty room.

The headmaster's office was circular, windows lined the walls and Dean could clearly see the Quidditch pitch that he so sorely missed. On another part of the wall was a fireplace where a small clay bowl full of Floo powder sat on the mantel piece. Facing Dean was an enormous desk with clawed legs and a high-backed chair. The room looked extremely tidy and bare. There was nothing on the desk or mantel piece. The only things of interested were the portraits of previous headmasters which looked down on Dean. Most of the portraits were bare, some were asleep, and others stared at Dean with mild curiosity. Dean located Dumbledore's portrait and the man gave Dean a quick wink.

In the silence Dean heard the door behind him slam. He turned around swiftly to face the door, he hadn't felt any wind and a chill went down his spine. There was no one there except Hoot, fluttering effortlessly as usual. However, the closed door had revealed something else. A golden perch stood, its inhabitant recognised by a small read feather which clung to it, beside the perch was a black cabinet, and placed on it was a stone basin with odd runes and symbols carved around the edge. Dean approached it slowly, feeling the eyes of many past headmasters' on him.

He stared into the bowl and was met with swirling silver wisps of liquid, giving off a whitish-silver, slightly pearlescent glow. It was beautiful, clam, but also eerie. Intrigued by the gaseous swirls, Dean poked his head into the bowl, carefully placing his hand to feel the liquid-looking gas and found himself surrendering to a strong tugging force.


	15. In Memory

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, otherwise I wouldn't be writing fics about it and instead have them published in 27 different languages and distribute them around the world to earn megabucks. Teehee.**

**A/N Extremely sorry for the late update… :(**

**Chapter 15 – In Memory**

Dean was standing in the same room, only it was not bare and empty, but crowded with various delicate, silver instruments placed on top of spindly-legged tables. Some seemed to be asleep, others were emitting faint puffs of smoke and making whirring noises. Light entered through the big glass windows and from the sky, Dean could tell that it was early dawn.

Behind the majestic desk which was now crowded with papers and books, Dumbledore sat, examining one of the silver devices which was purring softly.

Dean felt fuelled with a spark of hope, if Dumbledore was miraculously alive again then their situation seemed much more favourable. Without thinking, Dean walked up to the desk and waved his arms at the Headmaster.

"Professor Dumbledore!" said Dean quickly, "Professor Dumbledore, they're barricading the school and You-Know-Who's coming!"

But the Headmaster seemed utterly absorbed with his thorough examination of the object in his hands. He did look up, however, as someone knocked on the door and looked straight through Dean as if he wasn't there.

"Come in," said Dumbledore, placing his silver instrument on his desk where it issued a puff of smoke.

Dean turned around. On the perch sat a magnificent red phoenix with a golden tail and next to the perch was the cabinet, though there was no stone basin on it now. As logic caught up with him, Dean realised that he had possibly travelled back in time, when Dumbledore was still alive.

The oak door swung open and a tall, lanky man entered, "Professor Dumbledore," he addressed in a timid voice.

"Ah, Theodore, I was expecting you tonight," said Dumbledore indicating to the man to take a seat.

Dean quickly walked away as the man, who did look uncannily like Dean, took the seat opposite Dumbledore.

"Are James and Lily Potter – are they – are they really dead?" asked Theodore in a sad voice.

"Yes," said Dumbledore calmly.

"And how's Harry Potter?" asked Theodore.

"Hagrid and I have taken him to his Aunt's and Uncle's place, he'll be living there at least until he's of age."

The man nodded, "I hope they take care of him well."

"Oh I doubt that," said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling.

"But it shall have to do."

"It is the strongest protection we can give him," agreed Dumbledore.

"Then I suppose you already know -?"

"Well, I have some theories, yes. But as you are, and have always been, the man most learned in this area, I wanted to –"

"But your theories are usually correct, Professor," interrupted the man, smiling, it seemed, for the first time in a long period. His sunken cheeks and hazy eyes seemed to have uplifted an enormous amount.

"Ah," chuckled Dumbledore, waving the comment away, "Too much flattery is unhealthy for an old man like me."

"But it's the unhealthy things we like eating the most," sighed Theodore, "Tell me what you think Professor, and I'll see if I can add anything to it."

"Lily sacrificed herself for Harry," continued Dumbledore, "And I think that would've made all the difference. Am I correct?"

"Yes," said Theodore, whose eyes seemed to brighten as he went on to explain the concepts connected to his deepest interest, "Her will to keep Harry alive and sacrifice her own instead made sure that Harry didn't die tonight. Lily's love not only flows in Harry's blood, but it is infused and dissolved into Harry's skin. While Harry is the embodiment of so much love, Voldemort who has never appreciated or understood this connection between love and magic, can never touch him."

Dumbledore nodded and indicated for him to continue.

"I think you have ensured that Harry received the strongest protection," said Theodore as the words smoothly rolled out of his mouth like the knowledge was in his very being, "By sending him to his remaining relatives you are making sure that this protection barrier will not falter because Harry's blood will recognise its kin and grow even stronger."

"Yes," said Dumbledore, nodding, "I think I have left a letter to Petunia explaining all of that in short, _very short_."

Again Theodore smiled, "Of course this protection will break once Harry turns of age."

"Which I think is the time when Harry needs to fight Voldemort."

"He's not gone yet," said Theodore glumly.

"No," said Dumbledore, "Have you been to any celebrations Theodore? I heard Dedalus was holding an enormous party."

"I'm not in a position to be reckless enough to turn up at a party," said Theodore, the smile vanishing from his face, "Besides, we are in much more danger then it appears."

"Ah, you are very wise and cautious," said Dumbledore, who had suddenly taken out a jar of sherbet lemons and offered one to Theodore who kindly declined, "But it is an immense relief, Theodore, we have been haunted by death so long…"

Here, Dumbledore placed a sherbet into his mouth.

"I heard, Theodore, that Voldemort tried to recruit you?"

"Yes," said Theodore, "The Death Eaters confronted me last week on Voldemort's orders. He was trying to recruit more people, especially those who worked for the ministry because he was preparing to take over there, once the Potters were murdered. I think Rookwood suggested they recruit me, we work in the same department, he's always been somewhat fascinated by what I know, though for his master's gain probably."

"So you have been in hiding ever since?"

"Yeah," said Theodore, resting his head in his hands, "I left my family behind, Elena might struggle with the baby, but they're protected under my muggle identity at least."

"Professor Binns always said you were the most vigilant out of all his students," said Dumbledore softly, "What will you do next then?"

"I-I want to return home, but I don't think I should," Theodore sighed.

Dean saw the character of his father clearly. He loved his family but he would never ever do anything to endanger them and would rather isolate himself instead. He also realised with a jolt that his own journey this year was more or less like his dad's though on a smaller degree. They were truly father and son. If not, the mention of Elena, his mother's name was another confirmation of Dean's theory.

"You of all people will know that Lily's love could not altogether kill Voldemort tonight," began Dumbledore, looking out the window as the first rays of sunlight escaped the clouds and the room was flooded with a warm, yellow glow, "He will want to know why and he will want to find out how to combat the protection Harry has. He will send his remaining and most loyal followers to find you. You must not tell them anything," said Dumbledore simply, "It is perhaps best, then, that you remain in hiding."

Theodore nodded miserably and got up, "Well, I think I should leave now, it's almost morning, there will be more people on the streets."

"Theodore," said the Headmaster, standing up, as Dean's father opened the door, "For the sake of Harry, I am so very sorry, I wish with all sincerity that you will be able to return to your family soon."

For once it felt chillingly like Dumbledore could see Dean, like he was apologising to both of them as his sparkling, brilliant blue eyes flickered from father to son.

Theodore nodded, he opened his mouth and was about to say something when he changed his mine and closed it again, and walked through the door.

Then the image swirled and blurred around Dean, when it cleared, Dean found himself in the same office, though it was empty except for the phoenix. But instead of a fully grown, adult bird, it was a small, scrawny little phoenix, whose feathers were beginning to grow.

There were sudden footsteps rapidly climbing the stairs and the door immediately burst open. Dumbledore strode in, followed by a man with a bandaged arm and a bruise on his forehead, the Headmaster indicated the man to take a seat and then closed the door behind them. But the man stayed standing, his eyes were huge, bloodshot, his hair messy and somewhat greasy. Dumbledore took his seat behind the desk, but the man remained standing.

"It was not your fault," said Dumbledore, after a while.

The man did not respond, instead he stood, glaring at the floor between his feet.

"You were force-fed veritaserum," said Dumbledore quietly.

"I know," came the edgy reply.

"It was not your fault," Dumbledore repeated.

"IT. WAS. MY. FAULT." Said the man in between long, sharp breaths. "IT WAS MY ENTIRE FAULT. THEO SHOULDN'T HAVE TOLD ME WHERE HE WAS HIDING, I GAVE HIM AWAY. I BETRAYED HIM." Moaned the man, kicking his chair away, "AND THEN I WASN'T THERE WHEN HE NEEDED ME MOST," yelled the man and all of the sleeping portraits woke up with a start.

"Otus," whispered Dumbledore calmly, "Otus, it was not -"

"YES IT WAS," yelles Otus again, and with one majestic sweep, the papers and books on Dumbledore's desk crumbled to the floor and the chair was knocked over.

"WHY DID I – HOW COULD I – WHAT – I – I WON'T," stuttered Otus as he began knocking the silver instruments onto the floor.

"IF IT WASN'T FOR ME, HE WOULDN'T HAVE DIED, THEY WOULDN'T HAVE FOUND HIM," he yelled between half sobs.

"He is dead," said Dumbledore, "but there is still –"

"YOU," Otus reeled around and slammed his hands onto the desk, "SHUT UP! ALL YOU CARE ABOUT IS HARRY POTTER. ALL YOU CARE ABOUT IS VOLDEMORT NOT KNOWING WHAT THEO CAOULD'VE TOLD HIM. WELL NOW THEO'S DEAD, VOLDEMORT WILL NEVER KNOW, AND LITTLE HARRY WILL BE SAFE. ARE YOU HAPPY PROFESSOR? WHAT DOES A DEAD MAN MEAN TO YOU, AS LONG AS HARRY IS STILL ALIVE?"

"Otus, there will be a time when you will appreciate Harry and what he will do," said Dumbledore softly, "Theodore never questioned my judgement and he never questioned his faith."

"YOU," said Otus, glaring at the man before him, "HOW COULD YOU SAY – HOW COULD –"

"His faith was not in me," continued Dumbledore, "His faith lay in the future, and I assure you that if anything, Theodore would've made sure that he didn't die in vain."

Otus slumped and fell to the floor in a heap, leaning against the Headmaster's desk.

"Otus, I am truly sorry," said Dumbledore. Dean looked into Dumbledore's eyes and was slightly surprised at the tears filling there.

"He was my best friend," said Otus with extreme effort to control his voice, "I – It feels empty without – without," he said feebly.

"But there is still something you can do, Otus."

"Do -? Do what?" said the man, shoulders shaking.

"When you deem it suitable, find his family, and tell them the truth. Tell them why Theodore left them. It would be a terrible injustice on our part if his story was never told."

"I...different identity…" mumbled Otus.

"But you will find them, Otus," said Dumbledore.

Dean had had enough, the image swirled around him once again and he found himself sitting in front of the black cabinet, this time the office was empty, even all the portraits were bare and there was no phoenix. The stone basin sat on the cabinet, Dean was approaching it when he heard a yell and a crash. Instead he ran to the window and saw that the fight had begun, there was a distant rumbling issued from the Forbidden Forest and then the trees were bent apart as a giant emerged carrying what looked like a huge dog and…and…_Hagrid?_

So he had arrived back to the present time. Dean looked at the basin again, walking towards it, and placed his hand on the ancient runes and symbols carved on the edges. He was mesmerized again by the wisps of silvery liquid.

'_How much more can you tell me?'_ he thought, as his fingers moved across the surface of the bowl, about to sink into its contents when the whole castle suddenly shook and there were screams and crashes. Dean snapped his fingers back, instead he placed the basin into the cabinet and closed it. He had come to fight and the fight had begun, it was time he left the Headmaster's office. But as he walked towards the oak door, he found himself stopping midway, there were too many thoughts whirring away in his head.

So his father was dead. It hadn't been him who had helped Dean throughout the year, yet he was not a bit disappointed. Seeing him for the first time, albeit in memory, had awakened something in Dean. Theodore Smith was just as Dean had imagined him, in a way, it felt like Dean had known him all along, as if his father was part of him. How could he have ever blamed his father for leaving them, when he had never left Dean? Theodore had loved his family and even in death, he never left his family unprotected.

And the protective enchantments around his house, the phoney "Harry Potter" at King's Cross, the Disillusionment Charm, the patronus, it was all painfully obvious now, who else could it be other than Otus? The man who did, as Dumbledore predicted, found him, and kept him safe and alive.

Then there was the man from the Leaky Cauldron and the golden key, again, could it be Otus? Was the key somehow linked to his father? And then running into Ted, who had obviously followed the patronus, but Dirk, how did Dirk manage to stumble across that town? And Hoot, Hoot had given Dean the photo and the newspaper article, Hoot was the one who had given him the password to this office, and Hoot had also, Dean remembered with a chuckle, shredded his Ministry invitation. Could Hoot be Otus' owl?

As he stood there, marvelling as the bits and pieces slipped into place, he remembered Otus's messy hair, dark brown, almost black hair with stunning stripes of light-coloured tan hair on the surface and those large golden-brown eyes…those eyes...something about them troubled Dean.

Then those last words of Dirk repeated themselves in Dean's head.

"_Huge eyes, messy hair - always at least two tufts sticking up - You know what? He kinda reminded me of –"_

'an owl,' thought Dean as he inhaled deeply.

Hoot wasn't Otus' owl, Hoot _was_ Otus. The man was an animagus, and the patronus Dean had seen, it wasn't just any bird, it was an owl.


	16. Otus Birman

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, otherwise I wouldn't be writing fics about it and instead have them published in 27 different languages and distribute them around the world to earn megabucks. Also, there are direct quotes taken from the book.**

**Chapter 16 – Otus Birman**

There was another yell and shout and this time it sounded as if it came right from beneath Dean. He quickly ran to the door and wrenched it open, running down the spiral staircase and only just managing not to trip. Dean had come to fight, no more delaying in the office.

When he emerged from the opening in the wall, Dean immediately ducked, just in time to avoid a jet of purple light which hit the stone gargoyle instead. The rest of the corridor was empty, but there were two people duelling right in front of Dean. One was a masked Death Eater, the other, was, Dean now recognised, Otus Birman. His huge golden eyes and messy brown hair – with two tufts sticking up, just where Dean had imagined Hoot's ears to have been – gave him a rather peculiar look. He was short and lean and seemed rather unsteady on his feet, his eyes always seemed to be on alert of the things happening around him. This gave him a permanently nervous look, but this anxiety did not at all show in his wand skill. He was duelling rather feverishly and the Death Eater seemed no match to him.

Otus, Dean imagined, was in his late thirties, like Theodore, though his face looked quite weathered. Every crease on his forehead, every wrinkle on his feet looked like it had its own story to tell. This man had undergone a lot. No doubt, the death of his best friend would have changed him quite severely.

Then there was a last yell and the Death Eater was stunned, with a flick of Otus' wand, the unconscious body was transfigured into a play doll. Otus turned towards Dean, his huge golden eyes were mesmerizing, then he shrugged, "It was the first thing that came to mind," he said in a very deep, smooth voice, startling Dean while he indicated to the doll lying on the floor.

"Otus," Dean whispered, looking at the man from head to toe and relating his features to Hoot's – and there were quite a lot which Dean seemed to recognise, the man was the exact human version of the owl.

"Dean Smith," the man said, with a pause in between the first name and the surname, then he sighed and turned away.

'_Dean Smith_,' the name echoed in Dean's head, like it was someone else's name, some stranger who had never crossed paths with Dean.

There was a sudden explosion at the other end of the corridor, as the window and wall blasted apart and the rubble hurtled through the air, Otus, as if in one swift movement, picked up the discarded wand of the Death Eater's, grabbed Dean's hand and led them down the stairs quickly.

They ran down so many stairs that Dean had lost which floor they were on. When Otus finally stopped and turned a corner, Dean wasn't sure whether he was on the first or second floor. It didn't matter though, the sight in front of them was horrific. The floor was covered in spiders and two particularly large ones were scuttling down the hall where Colin Creevey and Neville stood, both petrified, at there feet were millions of spiders.

"NO!!" yelled Dean, running towards the two who were standing like islands in a sea of spiders.

"Dean!" cried Otus, yanking him back and throwing the wand he had picked up to him, "Go! I'll handle this. Go! Go before the damn spiders smother you!"

Dean watched in horror as Otus began making his way towards the two, blasting away as many spiders as he could, then he quickly made his way back up, some of the spiders had already began climbing up the stairs.

"_Confringo!"_ yelled Dean, as his feet made their way safely onto the next floor. He had expected the stairs to explode too, instead they seemed unharmed, while the force sent numerous spiders flying off and possibly killing them.

As he rounded the corner, a deafening scream reached his ears, Parvati Patil was being harassed by the man Dean recognised as Greyback, he looked more gruesome than ever and if Dean wasn't mistaken, what appeared to be blood was wiped across his face. As he ran towards the struggling pair, Parvati who looked extremely stressed because her wand lay a few feet away, saw Dean and struggled even harder. But it was no use, she was stuck in Greyback's arms, who was slowly transforming. The skin on his face and arms grew greyer and his hair, thicker, until Dean was quite sure he was staring at a werewolf, which Snape had taught them to recognise in their third year, during a substituted lesson. With a pang, Dean wondered if his old Professor, Remus Lupin was safe, and of course, his wife, Ted's daughter, however, Parvati's bloodcurdling scream brought him back to the present. The werewolf was preparing to bite her neck.

"_Wingardium Leviosa!_" cried Dean, he had never tried to levitate something this heavy before, though he did try it on Seamus' trunk once.

He was surprised when the wolf did hover a few feet above the floor, Parvati was able to scurry away and recall her dropped wand, while Greyback thrashed in the air. Soon, though, Dean lost his hold and the wolf landed on the floor with a thud. It immediately regained its composure, and was preparing to charge at Dean straight away when Dean yelled "_Stupefy!_" The wolf froze rigidly and his weight brought him crashing to the ground, though his legs still remained in standing position, and his eyes were still wide open. It was then that Dean realised Parvati had also performed the same spell at the same time to have such an affect.

"T-Thank you," said Parvati, still shaken and rather breathless.

"'S'ok," said Dean, noticing the wolf blinking.

"Quick," he said, "We better get out of here, Greyback will be up again quite soon."

Parvati nodded, visibly traumatised.

They ran back to the staircase and Dean leaned over the balcony, hoping to catch a glimpse of Otus and the others, but they were nowhere to be seen, however there were a few spiders scuttling about towards the two dead, giant spiders.

"C'mon," said Dean, opting instead to go up to the next floor instead of stepping on spiders again, as he turned around and took one last glimpse of the wolf and saw that its eyes were blinking, and its face was twisted into an expression of fury. Parvati swallowed and nodded, following Dean up the stairs.

They emerged onto a corridor where there were many duellers, jets of light streaked across the hallway from caster to victim making the corridor illuminated by multi-coloured glows. Through all the debris, damage, and spells, Dean could not distinguish the figure of Neville or Otus and he had been hoping to find Seamus here but his friend was not there. He could however make out the figure of Cho Chang, Katie Bell and Oliver Wood who were each fighting a Death Eater, their spells merely missing Parvati and Dean.

"Watch out!" cried Parvati as she whipped out her wand, but it was too late, the damage had already been done. Katie Bell had been hit with a body-bind curse, Cho Chang at once fired a hex at the Death Eater and Oliver tried to repair Katie's state of rigidness, leaving the two Death Eaters they had been fighting previously. One of them - and Dean recognised with a jolt that it was Dolohov - tried to use the moment of distraction to jinx Oliver from behind.

'_No you don't,_' thought Dean, as he pointed his wand at Dolohov and yelled "_Stupefy!_"

The jet of red light just missed the Death Eater, but at least Dean now had Dolohov's attention and Oliver had been forgotten.

"More of them, Travers," said Dolohov in a deep, hollow voice.

The man called Travers was now duelling Parvati who looked eager to fight, her previous state of shock undetectable from her swift and accurate movements.

Hexes, jinxes and curses were exchanged. Dolohov was relentless, every time Dean tried to catch his breath, another jet of light came his way and he became too busy dodging it.

"_Furnunculus!_" cried Dean, aiming his wand at Dolohov who was blasting statues and debris out of his way in order to come closer to Dean. The curse hit a statue and deflected off it, travelling across the room and instead hit Travers. There followed a loud, audible "Argh!" which Parvati exploited by stunning the Death Eater during his momentary confusion and pain.

There was a sudden loud "Wheeeeeeeeeee!" from above their heads. Peeves had zoomed past and dropped several Snargaluff pods, narrowly missing Dean and Parvati. Immediately the Death Eaters' heads were engulfed in wriggling, green tubers, which looked rather like fat worms and very disgusting. One of the pods managed to hang in mid-air as if it had landed on something invisible.

"Someone's invisible there!" shouted a masked Death Eater pointing at the suspended pod.

Dean, taking advantage of this distraction, sent a stunning spell at the Death Eater. Dolohov attempted to retaliate, aiming his wand at Dean, before Parvati sent a body-bind curse his way and the Death Eater's body snapped rigid.

"Thanks," Dean mouthed to Parvait.

"Your welcome," she mouthed back.

They advanced along the corridor, helping Cho, Oliver and Katie who were trying to regain their balance after slipping in pools of Snargaluff juice.

Parvati and Dean made their way down the stairs, sending random curses to random Death Eaters along the way. Parvati was keen to find her sister, Padma, who was apparently on the grounds.

"Dean!" cried an awfully familiar voice after he and Parvati had ran a few flights down.

His best friend came hurrying over to him, closely followed by Luna and Ernie Macmillan.

A surge of immense relief came over Dean which did somewhat surprise him, he hadn't known how worried he was about Seamus until he saw him safe and sound not to mention Ernie and Luna too.

Dean grinned, ear to ear.

"So, you got yourself a wand?"

"Yeah, some random Death Eater's," replied Dean, now wondering where Otus was.

"What's happening?" asked Parvati, "Any news?"

"Colin Creevey's dead," said Ernie sadly.

Dean nearly choked, he wondered desperately if Neville and Otus were still alive.

"And so is Fred, Ron's brother, we found his body…" said Seamus gravely, trailing off.

"But we saw Ron and Hermione and Harry," said Luna brightly, "They're safe."

The fact that Ron, Hermione and Harry were safe didn't altogether compensate for the deaths of Colin and Fred.

"And we're still alive," said Luna, after awhile.

Parvati nodded, "And while we are, we have the power to stop further deaths."

"Wise words," said Ernie, nodding, though even he looked sad and miserable.

Dean looked at Seamus, and for a moment they faced each other in mutual understanding. When you have so many emotions that you can't keep in, some will inevitably leak out, and that's why you have a friend, who will always be there in these moments and ungrudgingly share the psychological pain.

Then he heard it, a loud hoot amongst the many yells and screams of the castles, a hoot he would recognise anywhere and had longed to hear.

He was safe, for now.

"You guys better get going, I've got some stuff I have to do," said Dean, recalling the origin of the sound and making his way upstairs.

"No!" said Seamus, blocking his path, "Either you come with us, or I'll come with you."

"We should stick together," agreed Parvati.

"Look, you guys go ahead. Padma will be down there," said Dean, looking at Parvati, "and it's much safer there anyway."

"Oi," said Seamus, as Dean bounded up the stairs, "I'm coming with you."

"Me too," said Luna, like this was some sort of party.

"Weren't we just saying how lucky we were to still be alive?" said Dean angrily, running up the stairs.

He didn't want to hear it, but the unmistakable steps which followed his did allow him a sense of reassurance.

They reached the floor above, two men were duelling closest to them, Otus and an unmasked Death Eater.

"Birman, what a surprise, I thought you'd learned to keep your _beak_ out of other people's business, or was the loss of your best friend not enough of a lesson?" crooned the Death Eater, sending a jinx towards Otus.

"If it wasn't for you Rookwood, Theo wouldn't have died, I've come to avenge his death," said Otus whose sudden determination was frightening as he blocked the jinx and sent curses flying continuously in Rookwood's direction.

"ROOKWOOD," bellowed Percy Weasley who was charging down the corridor, wand drawn.

Otus was temporarily distracted by Percy's sudden interruption and exposed to attack as Rookwood gave a devilish grin and was about to cast a spell. Dean immediately ran up to the duelling pair and yelled "_Expelliarmus!_" and at the same time Percy hollered "_Petrificus Totalus!_". Rookwood's wand hovered across the air and landed into Dean's outstretched hand while the Death Eater in question went rigid and collapsed onto the floor.

Before any of them could react however, a deafening boom echoed through the corridor and the walls on either side of them seem to collapse, portraits and statues tumbled through the air as the explosion rocked the whole castle.

"Dean!" yelled Otus and Dean felt the man's strong arms push him away so that he landed a few feet from the centre of the explosion and close by Percy who had jumped and landed beside Dean. Percy's body was crushed to the ground by a flying portrait which had landed right on top of him and Dean had slammed into Luna, knocking both of them onto the ground. For a moment it looked like the two of them were about to be crushed by a hurling statue when Seamus and Ernie suddenly changed its course using a levitation charm. Parvati ran towards them and helped them both up.

As the mist cleared, Dean could make out a body lying motionless where the explosion had taken place, it was Otus' and Rookwood's body was nowhere to be seen.

"NO!" shouted Dean, running towards the limp body.

But Seamus, who had grabbed Dean's arm, did not let go.

"Come on Dean, it's dangerous!" said Seamus fiercely.

"But – I," began Dean

"Dean," whispered Parvati, "It's too late, he's –"

"I'm sorry, mate, I really am," said Ernie, quietly, patting him on the back, "But we should go now, before there's another explosion."

They dragged Dean down the stairs, with the exception of Luna, who walked beside him silently.

There was too much to think about. When Dirk and Ted had died, he had been angry, frustrated, miserable, depressed, now he was, he hated to admit it, immensely disappointed and betrayed. Disappointed yet again that someone else had died because they had bothered to save him. Disappointed because he didn't deserve to be living while these people were dead. Disappointed that he had never saved anyone in his life. Disappointed that he hadn't known who Hoot really was until now. And betrayed. Betrayed of the answers which Otus could have answered, about himself and his father. Betrayed of the relationship that could have been between them. Betrayed of his one last living link to his father.

As Seamus led him down the stairs and Dean obediently followed, the walls began talking, with a shrill, cold voice, which froze all of them in mid-step.

"You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste." Here Ernie snorted in disgust. "Lord Voldemort is merciful . I command my forces to retreat, immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured." At this, Dean immediately turned around, ran back up the stairs and into the dusty haze rising from the debris to find the body of Otus.

"Dean! Wait! Wait for me!" yelled Seamus after him.

"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you," continued Voldemort, "You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

Dean picked his way quickly around the rubbish until he finally saw Otus, he was badly bruised and there was an open wound on his arm and forehead. His eyes were closed and he looked relatively peaceful. He looked like he was sleeping, but Dean knew he was dead. At least his face was more relaxed than it had probably ever been after the death of Theodore.

There was movement behind him, at first Dean thought it was Seamus but then a slender woman emerged. She had dark hair, like Otus and those large, golden eyes. And she was crying. Wordlessly, the two lifted Otus' body and proceeded to carry him out of the rubble. After a few minutes, Seamus arrived and the three began carrying the body down the stairs silently.

The Great Hall was filled with people mourning. Dean walked past the pale, lifeless, yet peaceful faces of Lupin, Tonks and Fred, unable to generate any more emotion than the silent storm which was now fighting in him. He tried to say something, but his throat was dry and sore.

They placed Otus down in the centre of the Hall, where most of the bodies lay. After that, the woman sat down quietly and took Otus' hand in her own, she stared into his face, smiling softly as the tears came out.

Dean tried to ask her who she was, but the words wouldn't come out. Instead he walked out of the Hall. He doubted that fresh air would help, but it was better than being in a room filled with tears.


	17. Just Like your Father

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine and so are some of the quotes that I took directly from the book.**

**Thanks for all the review guys smiles broadly, I'm glad you liked the fighting scenes and I'm sorry Otus is gone, but it just seemed kinda surreal if he stayed alive, and also because Dean will treasure Otus more if he was kept in the past. So now I present you with the 2****nd**** last chapter of my fic, happy readings!**

**Chapter 17 – Just like your father**

He was sitting on the grass outside the Entrance Hall when he heard people approaching him from behind. Seamus sat down, putting his arm around Dean and Luna sat on the other side, patting the grass at her feet. For a while no one talked, though Dean knew Seamus was full of questions, however the only one he asked was, "You ok?" Dean nodded, he opened his mouth to say yes, but instead he told them the truth, that the man who had just saved his life was Otus.

Dean made sure to answer all their unspoken questions, before he got up.

"I'm going back into the Hall," he said to Luna and Seamus. Both of them stood up immediately to follow Dean, but came face to face with the woman who had been mourning beside Otus' body.

Dean stood, not knowing what to say, before Seamus beckoned to Luna and the two made their way to the Hall. "We'll meet you there," said Seamus.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I was listening to you speak."

Dean said nothing, instead he sat back down on the grass and woman followed suit. She appeared much younger than Otus, and looked like she was a bit older than Bill. Her eyes were dry but swollen and she smiled at Dean when she finally sat down.

"So, we finally meet, Dean Thomas," she said, her golden eyes looking, unblinking at Dean.

Dean was about to ask who she was, but she got there first.

"I'm Oleta Birman," she began, her eyes turning to the grounds and she looked towards the skies as if she was speaking of a distant memory, "Otus was my brother, he was nine years older than me."

"He had a younger sister?" Dean whispered, more to himself.

"Yes, although not many people knew about it. Because of our age gap, we attended Hogwarts at different times. When Theodore died, Otus could hardly come to me for sibling support. I had just begun schooling at Hogwarts and was just beginning to learn about the Wizarding World. Otus didn't dare tell me about Death Eaters and You-Know-Who."

"Wait, you were muggle-borns?" asked Dean.

"Yes," she said again, "If you have any questions, Dean, Otus did tell me to come tonight in case he – and to tell you –" She said, struggling with the words.

"Yeah," said Dean, "Can you – Can you tell me everything you know?" He finished rather hungrily.

It was a long time before Oleta began speaking.

"According to what I learnt from Otus, your father was the child of Fiona Carrophs and a muggle called Dean Smith. Fiona Carrophs was presumably murdered by Death Eaters, the Carrophs family have been involved with such deaths before, I suppose they threatened the rule of You-Know-Who. Your grandfather maintained that Fiona was murdered by wizards, though he quickly had his memory wiped by the ministry and Theo was brought up believing he was a muggle-born."

"When Theo arrived at Hogwarts, he was a very curious boy. He wanted to know what made a person magical, he wanted to know why he was a wizard while no one else in his family, that he knew of, had ever been given magic. It almost became an obsessive interest, but his drive to learn all he could about magic also made him one of the brightest wizards in his year level."

She took a deep breath, then continued, "I don't know how Otus and Theo managed to be such close friends. Otus was the out-door type, he captained the Ravenclaw quidditch team, but I suppose opposites attract. Whenever Theo wasn't reading, or Otus wasn't flying his broom, they could be seen together, mucking around. They were both eager to graduate. Otus wasn't your studying type and Theo had probably learnt everything already. Once they left Hogwarts, Theo immediately got a job at the Department of Mysteries and Otus began working at the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

"They loved their job, but it was a dangerous time. You-Know-Who was on the rise and there were Death Eaters working in the Ministry as well as people who were Imperiused. He was also trying to recruit more people, and wasn't forgiving when they turned him down. Then your father met Elena."

She cocked her head to one side and smiled, "Theo loved Elena more than anything and wanted to protect her from those dark and difficult times. He'd even considered quitting his job, but instead he married Elena under a different identity so no one could track his family down. He was always so cautious and a year after their marriage, you were born. We never saw you, we didn't even know Theo's muggle identity, that's how much he wanted to protect you," here she smiled at Dean.

"But then You-Know-Who tried to recruit Theo, he was after all moving up quite quickly in the Department ranks and Rookwood admired some of his personal qualities. He fought them, and survived, but he went into hiding after that. No one knew where he was except for Otus. Three nights after You-Know-Who attacked the Potters, his remaining followers found Otus and force-fed him Veritaserum until he told them the whereabouts of Theo. Otus didn't tell me what, but apparently Theo had some sort of information that You-Know-Who wanted. Theo didn't tell them of course, and they killed him instead."

"Otus always blamed himself," she continued, after deliberating for a moment, "He was distraught beyond belief and worked with new relish, like it could wipe away the other thoughts he had. He worked until I graduated from Hogwarts and got a job, then he quit his job and decided to spend all his time to look for you, Dean. I tried to help, but he wanted to do it all alone."

"But you did help," Dean realised suddenly, "You were the woman who fought off that ministry official!"

She nodded, "It took us a while to find you Dean, but we finally did. Otus tried to find out everything about you."

"Oh," said Dean, "I – I feel so bad, if it wasn't because of me –"

"Don't be like that," she cut in, "I think he's quite happy that he's finally found you and proud that he saved you tonight."

"But you must feel horrible," interjected Dean.

"As long as Otus is happy, and I think he's happier than he's ever been-"

"-because he found me?"

"You have no idea how much he wanted to see you, you look just like your father Dean."

"Thanks for telling me everything," said Dean after a while.

"Don't say that," she replied, "There's one more thing I need to tell you."

"Yeah?"

"Your dad left you something."

"Left me what?"

"Otus didn't tell me, he said you'd know." Oleta stood up, ready to return into the Hall.

"Wait," said Dean.

She stopped and turned around, "Yes?"

"How did Otus learn to be an animagus?"

"He was born one," she replied, "We didn't know what was going on when he was young and he never regis–"

Before she could go on, however, the magnified voice of Voldemort surrounded them.

"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you laid down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone."

Oleta froze, and Dean could just imagine the atmosphere in the Hall as these words crashed down on them.

"The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle, now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live, and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."

At once people began screaming and sobbing and bursting through the front gates of the Hall. Neville looked furious and Mr and Mrs Weasley looked murderous.

A progression of Death Eaters was marching towards them, followed by two giants. Their footsteps shook the ground beneath them. When they reached the group of fighters which Oleta and Dean had joined in, they stopped and spread themselves in a line to face the people who were coming out of the Hall.

And there was Harry, lying still and lifeless in Hagrid's arms.

"NO!" screamed Professor McGonagall in such a strained voice that Dean had never imagined she could have. At once one of the Death Eaters, the madwoman Dean had seen at the Malfoy's filled the air with her high-pitched cackle.

"NO! HARRY! HARRY!" yells and screams from either side deafened Dean's ears. He tightened his grip on his wand. Harry couldn't be dead, he was much too strong it seemed, and Voldemort couldn't be alive. After all those people killed and the ones who were lying in the Great Hall, their spirits already departed, in the books it was always the good guys who won. What now? Dean felt like aiming a killing curse at Voldemort, the guy made it look easy, how he had almost spent his entire life killing.

Dean was standing near the back of the crowd he didn't hear the scuffling or the yell, or the grunt of pain, but there was a flash of bright light, temporarily blinding him, something flew from the top of the castle to Voldemort and before Dean knew it, Neville Longbottom's head was hidden beneath the Sorting Hat which immediately burst to flames.

"NO!" cried Dean, just as a million others yelled the same thing and drew their wand. Dean was making his way to the front, thinking of which spell to use when he was attacked from behind. Someone had jumped onto his back and forced him to fall flat onto the ground, head first, his wand hurled out of his hands as the attacker pressed his face onto the grass.

"Dean, NO!" came the muffled voices of Seamus and Parvati.

Dean's head was yanked back, pulled by the hair and was forced to stare into the bloodthirsty eyes of Greyback.

"Got you," he snarled.


	18. His First Family Photo

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.**

**Chapter 18 – His First Family Photo**

Dean woke up with a start and realised he was sleeping in his favourite four poster bed at Hogwarts, all around him, his roommates snored softly. Had it all been a dream? Dean quickly threw the covers off him and ran towards the window in their dormitory. And his heart sank.

It hadn't been a dream, of course. Half the castle was destroyed and through the window, Dean could see the collapsed walls, the debris, the rubble, the crumbled face of Hogwarts.

"But we're still alive," came Seamus' voice behind him, echoing Luna's words last night.

"Harry-" began Dean.

"-Is snoring safely in his bed over there," finished Seamus, pointing at the boy's body, "Use your eyes Dean."

"You mean he's alive! But how – then is Vol-?"

"Yep, he's dead, Harry killed him, it was the most magnificent thing ever, too bad you were knocked out."

"Knocked out?!"

"Shh!" warned Seamus, looking at Ron who had suddenly snorted in his sleep, "I think we should go down to the common room."

They walked down the stairs leaving Harry, Neville and Ron snoring and snorting in their beds, and entered the common room where Parvati was looking out the window forlornly.

"Morning Parvati," greeted Seamus.

"Morning," echoed Dean.

"You alright?" she asked, her eyes now on Dean, "I'm so sorry about last night."

"Sorry? For what? Am I missing something here?" asked Dean, puzzled.

"What, can't you remember anything?" said Seamus, slightly concerned.

"Er," said Dean, racking his brains, "Greyback tried to bite me…"

"Yeah, don't know why he did it when I was around, I mean, doesn't he know that I aim my spells with exact precision?"

"You?" Dean snorted, "Yeah, whatever."

"Anyway, aimed a stunning Spell at him, caught him square on the chest," said Seamus proudly, "Only problem was-"

"I had aimed a stunning spell too," continued Parvati, "the two spells collided and mine kinda hit you," she finished with an awkward laugh.

"Oh, is that all," said Dean, "Your stunning spells were always formidable in DA"

Parvati smiled weakly.

"Oh yeah," said Seamus, fingering in his pockets for something, this fell out of your pockets when Parvati stupefied you," he said, holding up the golden key in Dean's face, "And why didn't you ever tell me you had a vault at Gringotts? I always thought you were really tight on wizard money."

"What? I never had a vault at Gringotts!" replied Dean, "What are you talking about?"

"Then why do you have a key to a vault?" asked Parvati suspiciously.

"This is a vault key? I never knew, no way! We're going to Gringotts right now!" said Dean, grabbing the key from Seamus.

"See ya Parvati!" said Dean as he ran through the portrait hole, dragging Seamus with him.

"Alright," said Seamus as they headed towards the room of requirement, "this is the key that creepy guy from the Leaky Cauldron left behind isn't it? How do you know what's in his vault? This might not be such a good idea."

"That creepy guy," said Dean through gritted teeth in all the excitement, "was Otus, I know it, and whatever's in this vault it has to be what Oleta was talking about, the stuff my dad left me."

"Whose Oleta? And why are we going to the room of requirement?" asked Seamus.

Dean ignored Seamus' first question, "Before we go to Gringotts, I want to go to the Hog's Head first and that's why we're going to the room of requirement."

"That stinky pub, but why? Aberforth can get pretty cranky at the worst of times."

They entered the room and scrambled through the tunnel and out in front of the fireplace in Aberforth's sitting room and snoring on the saggy couch was the man himself, who woke up with a start when Dean and Seamus landed with a thud.

"You?! What now?" grumbled Aberforth, while he tried to flatten down his frizzy hair.

"I need to ask you something and you need to answer me truthfully," demanded Dean, "You knew Hoot was Otus didn't you? Was it Otus who told you I was a quidditch player, told you I played chaser didn't he? How long has Otus been watching me? And why didn't you tell me Hoot was Otus earlier?"

"What? Yeah, yeah I knew Otus was an owl, known him since he was at Hogwarts, always used to come down 'ere," began Aberforth grumpily, "An' yes, when you dropped into my pub with him, he told me everything about you, couldn't stop himself, real happy he was, talkin' about yer. Bin watching you fer 2 years already, ever since Al began convincing the whole wizard population that You-know-who was back after that Diggory died. An' what was the last question you rudely spat in my face after trespassing my house and wakin' me up? Hmm…yeah…had no right to tell you son, the right was his…the right was his…Yer happy now? Can you leave an old man to sleep in peace?"

"Yeah, yeah, sorry for waking you up, but thanks anyway, I'll leave you alone for now," said Dean, smiling at Aberforth's grumpy mood which was the one thing that never changed.

"You gonna be there at the funeral ceremony?"

"What? Oh yeah, course," replied Dean.

"Well then I'll see you later today at Hogwarts then. Where are you two off to now?"

"Gringotts."

"Gringotts? Now?" Aberforth asked, clearly bewildered.

"Yeah now, we'll be off soon."

"Yeah well, have a nice day," grunted Abeforth.

And with that the two apparated to Gringotts.

"Stop here," commanded the four guards before they entered the hall of the bank. Two of them began searching Dean while the other two began searching Seamus. One was doing a body check while the other was conducting spells quickly under his breath.

"…_human revelio…_"

"What is this?" muttered Seamus as the two guards twirled their wand around him.

"New security measure since the break-in yesterday," grumbled one of the guards.

"That's great," said Dean sarcastically, "Do you think I'll be able to get in before nightfall?"

"Alright you guys are done," grunted the guard.

Dean swiftly entered the doors, walked to the nearest counter and placed the key in front of the crouching goblin.

"Erm, my name's Dean Thomas I want to open my vault…"

"Wand identification," demanded the goblin, reaching out with his crinkled arm.

"What? I don't have a wand!"

"Squib then? Follow me,"

"No, I'm not – just let me –"

"I'll take him to his vault, I know him," came Griphook's toneless voice.

The old goblin handed the key to Griphook and glanced twice at Dean before returning to his seat behind the counter and slouching once again.

"Griphook!" said Dean, for once delighted at seeing the fussy goblin.

"Follow me," he said, as if he didn't know Dean.

They followed Griphook through a dark, twisty corridor leading underground which looked rather like a coal mine and walked for a while, turning infinite corners, before stopping at a door with a long number printed on it and the name "Carrophs".

"You're the only descendant left," grumbled Griphook, opening the door for him, "I'll wait for you outside."

"Thanks," said Seamus in the same indifferent tone as Griphook and raising his eyebrows at Dean.

"Ladies first," said Dean, beckoning Seamus to enter first.

Seamus pushed Dean into the room first, then followed behind.

"Wow!! How many cleansweeps can you get with this?" wondered Seamus aloud.

"Enough to last my lifetime and my grandson's and my grandson's grandson and…"

The golden sheen from the piles of galleons was reflected on their faces as Dean stared at the money his family had left him and Seamus, mouth hanging open, seemed to swallow the golden glow from the coins.

"Look Dean, over there!" said Seamus suddenly, pointing at a rectangular wooden box, lying about at the foot of the coins and looking completely out of place with the riches contained in the vault. But it was the box that Dean was attracted to. It was exactly the kind of thing that looked as if it had been passed down for generations, something that his father had no doubt fingered too.

Dean ran towards the box, opened the lid gently and took out the wand which looked like it was sleeping inside, cuddling against the red cushioning. Dean took it out and a photo fell out.

He waved the wand about and red sparks flew out, as he curled his fingers around the wand, he felt another hand hold his.

It was his father, Theodore Smith, Dean knew it, he felt it in the blood pumping through his heart and the magic flowing through his wand; this was his father's wand.

"What's this?" asked Seamus, picking up the photo and flipping it over.

"Awww, Dean, look at this!"

Dean stuck his head in front of the photo, it was a photo of his mum and his dad and there he was, a small baby, held in his mother's arms. It was a picture taken from the hospital Dean was born – a muggle hospital – and what's more, it was a muggle photo, so no one could ever leave it.

"My first family photo," whispered Dean, taking the photo from Seamus' hands and sitting down, staring at it for a long time.

Next to him, Seamus sat silently, not completely understanding his friend's feelings, but there to share them.

**-**

**Thanks to everyone who shared Dean's story and a huge thanks to everyone who reviewed, and before you all go reading some other fanfic I would just like to say the following;**

**Firstly, I had great fun writing Dean's story. This is the first multi-chapter fic that I've finished so it was a huge commitment on my part and I apologise for any slow updates.**

**Secondly, I'm going to change the title to 'Family Photo' because 'What about Dean?' really was a crap title, but I didn't want to change it until I had finished the story in case anyone got confused.**

**Thanks again for reading this and I hope everyone writes some good fics, gets some good reviews and don't suffer from writer's block.**


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